A Pale Flame
by Faelai
Summary: In the darkness of her own soul, one pale flame remained burning. The memory of him was all that kept her warm. He was her last tether to sanity.
1. A Prayer In The Dark

Title: A Pale Flame

Author: Emily O'Donnell

Genre: S/V Romance, Angst

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: These characters belong to J.J. Abrams and ABC though they haven't been taking the best care of them lately. 

Summary: In the darkness of her own soul, one pale flame remained burning. The memory of him was all that kept her warm. He was her last tether to sanity.

Author's Note: I'm not new to the world of fanfiction, I was a rather prolific author in the world of X-Files fanfiction a few years back but this is my first Alias fanfic and my first fanfic written in several years (since the x-files started going downhill) So please read, review, let me know what you think. The timeline of this story spans the course of Syd's missing two years. Some of the events that occur in this story don't quite fit in with the Alias timeline that has been created this season so I suppose it could technically be considered AU but I consider it to be part of the traditional Alias universe. 

Date: January 15, 2004

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Chapter One: 

A Prayer In the Dark

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She woke in darkness, her thoughts drifting as if still trapped in a dream like state. The blackness seemed to claw at her, seeking to get under the flesh and into her mind. A wild panic gripped her mind and all rational thought flew far away. Bolting upright, she banged her head hard on the roof of her tiny cell. Sparks of pain traveled through the length of her body and a soft whimper escaped her lips.

Sydney Bristow never broke. She knew that in her heart but every day she felt herself slipping further from sanity. She would not break, but it was entirely possible that she might lose her mind in the fight for her soul.

No light entered her cell, no cracks for warmth to slip through. She had lost track of the days she had been trapped in this tiny room; there was no day when one was caught in eternal night. She felt as though she had been trapped here for weeks, without food or drink or the light of day. 

It had been far too long since she had heard a human voice. At this point in her desperation she would have been thankful just to hear something from that bastard, Oleg, the one who was keeping her here. It had been even longer since she had felt the warmth of a loving touch on her cracked skin and broken body. 

Her eyes filled with tears that dripped unseen into the oblivion of the cell. She curled herself tight into a ball, fetus style on the cold cement floor. In her mind's eye, she could see his eyes gazing at her with such overwhelming love and tenderness. She could feel the touch of his hand smoothing her skin when they lay naked in the twilight, speaking in whispers of their love for one another. His hands on her back, holding her tightly, his legs tangled with hers, his lips on her skin. She could feel it all but he was far from her now, she had no way of knowing if he still lived, if he had moved on. 

Her thoughts of Vaughn always overwhelmed her to the point of exhaustion. A sob broke free, wrenched from deep inside where the pain was greatest. No amount of physical pain could compare to what she felt when she thought of Vaughn and the fact that she was now dead to him. Dead to his heart and soul and mind. 

"Vaughn," his name was a broken prayer that spilled from her lips. 

As much pain as they caused her, these memories of him were her only true salvation. The fire that had raged inside of her for so long had gone out. All of her anger toward Sloane and the Alliance was gone, replaced only by bitter acceptance that she had lost. In the darkness of her own soul, one pale flame remained burning. The memory of him was all that kept her warm. He was her last tether to sanity.

Home was behind her now, her friends, her father, and her lover. She wondered what cruel twist of fate had steered her life in this direction where she lingered in the depths of night. There was no shadow here, only pure darkness like her prison was a mirror of what was left inside of her. All else had faded, even her own mind, her soul. 

She closed her eyes and curled tighter within herself, wrapping her arms around herself and rocking gently to keep warm. As if they were his arms and he was keeping her safe. Sydney struggled to steady her nerves, calm her racing mind. She was Sydney Bristow and she would never break, she could not give them the pleasure of finding her ranting and raving with madness next time they opened her cell. Her mind told her that she could still find some way to get out of this but her heart told her that she would never leave this dark and dismal tomb.

"Vaughn, I love you," she had taken up the habit of speaking into the darkness. She did not care if her captors heard her; it mattered little to her anymore. All that mattered was that she struggle to preserve some dregs of sanity. "When I find you again, I'm never going to leave your side. You'll see. We'll leave the CIA together, move somewhere far away from all the pain and the betrayal. Do you remember all of our plans? France in the summertime so our children could see their father's home country. We could all walk on the beach and watch the sun set like you and I did that night when we first made love." The tears were flowing freely now. Her voice, already raspy from too little use, was choked now with broken sobs. 

"When you find me, I'll tell you how much I love you." The agony became too much for her and she lowered her head against the stone, sobbing into the silence. 

After a few minutes, she heard a familiar sound approaching in the distance. Footsteps, coming from down the hall. With a gasp she sat up and hastily scrubbed a hand across her face. She scurried into the corner of the cell, away from the door, fearful of what might be coming for her this time. 

The window slid open and she gasped in the sudden blinding light that struck her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she crawled toward the window as if she could find a way to squeeze through the cracks and escape.

She was frozen in stillness as she met the eyes of her captor, for a moment she thought she saw him there. Green eyes gazing down on her with fear and love. She stretched her hands toward him, pleading for salvation. 

"Vaughn," his name spilled from her once more. A prayer to her own personal god.

A mocking laughter came from the other side of the door, pouring through the crack of the window. She blinked again at the harsh sound and the illusion vanished, Oleg's laughter continued.

"You think he will save you?" The contempt in his voice was palpable and made her shrink back away from him in fear. Anger filled her heart, erasing the numbness and despair that had overtaken her for so long.

"Your precious Agent Vaughn is most likely wallowing in a self induced stupor right now. Drinking himself to death. Or, even more likely, he is lounging in the arms of another woman, more beautiful than you. All thoughts of you have gone from his head. You are nothing now. Sydney Bristow is gone; you are nothing now but Julia Thorne. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you will truly be free."

The window slid shut with a harsh snap in Sydney's face. She was left alone once more, in the darkness with only her memories to keep her warm. 

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	2. Broken Lives

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Chapter Two: 

Broken Lives

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He sat alone in the darkness. He couldn't know how many hours had passed, how many days; weeks and months had passed in this fashion. Sitting alone in his empty apartment, bottle in hand and dark thoughts consuming him. A cigarette dangled from his fingertips, the smoke drifting lazily to the ceiling. He took a long drag with a grimace, he had always detested the idea of smoking but since her death, he had done a lot of things he never thought he would.

The acrid smell of the smoke reminded him of that night. He had collapsed amidst the rubble of her building and the ashes of her life. The ashes of their life together. In some twisted way, this bad habit brought him closer to her. He was dying more and more every day he woke up without her, everytime he took a drag off the cigarette, everytime he took another drink.

Music was playing softly in the background, so low he could barely hear it but he had it memorized by now. Every word, every note. It hadn't left his CD player in the three months since she had left it at his apartment, her favorite CD. He had felt so honored in a weird giddy way when she had let him borrow it. The fact that she trusted him with her prized possessions had made him ridiculously happy. The fact that she had trusted him with her life had once done the same thing, now it filled him with unspeakable anguish. Her life had been in his hands that night, but he had not known it. For perhaps the millionth time since his phone had rung that night, informing him of the fire, he cursed himself for not going into the apartment with her. For not following his gut instinct and leaving at that very moment for Santa Barbara before anyone could stop them. He could have saved her a hundred different ways but he had not. And now she was gone.

_'She is gone. Sydney is gone. My love…' _His thoughts circled in endless patterns similar to this. The disbelief was gone and now his mind had settled into the agony of acceptance. She was gone. She was dead. They would never have the life together that they had so long hoped for. They would never have a wedding on the beach, barefoot at sunset with all of their family and friends as witness. They would never have children with green eyes and dark hair and the ability to kick any bully's ass. 

There were pictures of her scattered on the coffeetable in front of him. After SD-6 had been destroyed, he had been emphatic on capturing their moments together on film. These tattered photographs had been memorized by now, silent frozen moments in time. Sydney in bed, sleeping peacefully with a smile on her face after a long night of making love. The two of them laughing together over dinner, a picture Will had taken during one of their double dates. A picture of their first kiss, amidst the wreckage of SD-6 that Weiss had taken, most likely to be used as blackmail against him at a later date. After the fire, Weiss had handed the picture over to him without a word; grief etched in his eyes and sorrow for his two friends whose lives had been destroyed in one night.

It had been three months to the day today. Vaughn knew that in his heart but the date didn't matter. Every day was the same as today, every day was filled with grieving.

The cigarette was burning his fingers, but he didn't care. He considered stubbing it out in the palm of his hand for moment, just to feel a pain that came from a source that was not buried deep within. He decided against it and instead flicked the dying butt into the ashtray next to him. The bottle slipped from nerveless fingertips as he leaned forward over the collection of photographs. 

He picked up one of the photographs, his favorite, creased and faded from hours of him clutching it for strength. She was looking up at him with such love, laughter in her eyes and a smile on her face. She was standing on the beach, waves washing around her legs as she held up the hem of her dress to keep it dry. The sun behind her lit her whole form with a dazzling radiance. She looked like an angel. And now she was one.

"I cant help but wonder if you're out there somewhere, watching over me," he addressed his quiet thoughts to the woman in the photo. "There's some sort of bitter fucking irony to the idea that maybe right now you are _my_ guardian angel." His words were clear despite his inebriated state and the fact that he was talking to a picture. A bitter smile touched his lips briefly but vanished as soon as it had appeared. "But no, you would be guarding me much better than this. You would appear in a white light and tell me to get off my ass and pull myself together." He sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands, the photo fluttering back down to the table. Sydney remained smiling up at him, dimples in full force, aglow with love. The Sydney he would never see again except in these frozen memories. 

"Why did you have to leave me, Syd?" The tears were coming now as they always did, seeping through the cracks of his fingers. Michael Vaughn had always prided himself on being strong. But his strength had vanished the moment he had seen her charred and broken body lying amidst the rubble of her former life. He had cried more in the past three months without her than he had since his father had died.

The doorbell rang shrilly, startling from his reverie. He jerked upright, looking around him with wild eyes until they landed on the door to his apartment. A pale light filtered through the cracks from the hallway outside and he could see a shadow lingering there, waiting for him to answer. He remained where he was; wishing that whoever it was would go away. It was probably Weiss again, checking up on him, making sure that he hadn't yet succumbed to the urge to join Sydney in the next life.

The person outside pounded on the door, a harsh banging noise that reminded him of gunshots. He jerked with every knock, as if the bullets had entered his heart. Wearily, he pushed himself up from the couch and trudged to the door. In his heart, a wild hope arose that Sydney would be standing on the other side, with a smile and an explanation for everything that had happened.

He opened the door and squinted out into the bright light of the hallway, when his eyes met those of the figure standing on the other side he stepped back in surprise. This was possibly the last person he had expected to see, aside from Sydney Bristow herself.

Jack Bristow stood quietly on the other side, waiting for Vaughn to speak. He looked almost as bad as Vaughn did; his normally implacable façade had vanished, leaving a tired and beaten down old man in his place. His wore a bland sweatshirt and slacks, wrinkled as if he'd slept in them for days. His eyes were rimmed with red and there was a look of complete and utter anguish that lingered there. He was a man with nothing left in the world; everyone he loved had either betrayed him or died. 

"Jack," Vaughn wasn't aware that the greeting had left his lips until he was stepping back into the apartment, switching the light on as he did so. Jack entered wordlessly and Vaughn let the door swing shut behind him.

"How are you doing?" The question was pointless and Vaughn knew it before the words had left his lips. Jack was doing no better than he was, if not worse. He was perhaps the one person in the world who understood what Vaughn was feeling right now.

A harsh laugh escaped Jack's lips as he turned to face Vaughn. "I'm doing no better than you are, Michael." It was as if he had read his mind or perhaps, knew that it was the precise truth, just as Vaughn did.

Vaughn was slightly taken aback by the use of his first name, he hadn't spoken to Jack Bristow since Sydney's funeral and even then neither men had barely said two words to anyone.

"Please, sit down," Vaughn was ever the polite host and as much as he desired solitude right now, there was something comforting about the presence of this man. Jack had often intimidated him but there was nothing menacing about him now. They shared a bond through Sydney now and they both knew it.

"Do you want something to drink?" He asked, already pulling out another bottle from the cabinet. He had three months of empty bottles in the trash and another three months worth full in the cabinet. He could barely remember the last time he had been fully sober and didn't want to remember because it would bring too many other memories rushing back.

"A scotch would be good, or whiskey." Vaughn pulled out bottles of both and set them down on the table before Jack. Carefully, reverently, he slid some of the pictures of Sydney aside to clear space. 

Taking the seat next to Jack, he noticed that his eyes were fixed on the photographs on the table. Vaughn groaned inwardly, these photos would be killing Jack as much as they did him but he couldn't bring himself to put them away. 

"She was so beautiful, wasn't she?" The emotion in Jack's voice surprised him, though he had expected it coming. He didn't think he had ever heard any emotion in Jack Bristow's voice other than anger. 

Vaughn nodded, turning to look at Jack. "She was the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

Jack nodded dully, leaning forward to grip the bottle and take a long swig. "She was always a beautiful child, I was terrified when she hit high school. But she kept the boys away all on her own, her courage and fierce attitude protected her better than I ever could." His face twisted in anguish as he said the last words and Vaughn felt a rush of empathy and surprisingly, of paternal love for this man who had fathered the woman he loved so deeply.

Jack turned his eyes away from the photos on the table with effort, turning to look at Vaughn. "I never thanked you, Michael, for taking care of her as well as you did. She may not have realized it and I certainly didn't realize it until it was too late. I never saw my daughter happier than she was with you. Even with all that was going on in her life, she was happiest with you than ever before. And I got the chance to see that, to be a part of it. You're a good man, you would have made her a wonderful husband."

Vaughn felt the tears burning in his eyes; the lump in his throat was difficult to swallow. His words were raspy with effort when he finally spoke.

"Thank you, Jack. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

Jack nodded and handed the bottle to Vaughn as if in tribute, he lifted the bottle and took a long swig. The liquid burned through him, numbing the agony for a brief moment.

"I was going to ask her to marry me that weekend," Vaughn shook his head and set the bottle down heavily on the table in front of them. "If I had just taken her away with me that night, if I had never taken her home… We would be having a very different conversation right now."

"You can't blame yourself. I should know, I've blamed myself a hundred times. I blamed myself when I thought Laura was dead," Vaughn winced slightly at the mention of Jack's wife. "I blamed myself when Sloane recruited her, I blamed myself when she wouldn't leave the CIA. I blamed myself when I got the phone call. I thought, if only I had done things differently. But you can't live wondering what might have happened. I try to think that everything happens for a reason, but this…" Jack's voice broke on the last words and he took a long draught of the liquor. "There is no reason for my daughter to be dead right now. And what do we have left?" Jack looked at Vaughn and saw a reflection of himself in the young man. Tired, disheveled and haunted by ghosts of the people he loved. 

Vaughn shook his head, "I have nothing left. I can't go back to the CIA now that she's gone. I can't imagine ever loving anyone else the way I loved her. Not a day goes by that I don't contemplate ending it all but then I would be a coward. My life is over; I do nothing more than exist at this moment. I exist because I know Sydney would want me to but I can do no more than that."

"Sydney would want you to be happy."

Vaughn looked up at him, haunted eyes drilling into Jack's soul. The tears had begun to spill over but he didn't care. "I don't know how to do be happy without her. I don't know how to live without her."

Jack placed a comforting hand on Vaughn's shoulder and nodded sadly. "Neither do I."

"I wonder sometimes… She was so smart, so strong, I wonder sometimes if she's still alive, if her enemies have her in their hands and that she's trying to get back to us."

Jack turned away as if stung by his words. He stood slowly and picked up the bottle, gripping it tightly before taking a long drink. He studied the photos on the table once more and a smile flitted across his face before dissolving back into grief.

"I wonder too. But then I feel the aching emptiness inside me where her presence always thrived. And I know, my little girl is gone." Jack's last remaining shred of composure broke at this confession and the tears slipped free from his haunted eyes.

Vaughn's already broken heart ached for this man before him, shattered into pieces just as he was. Pieces that had blown away into the sea with the ashes of his daughter's body. Without thinking, he stood and wrapped his arms around Jack Bristow. Jack remained stiff at first, but he softened and hugged Vaughn tightly, both of them with wet faces and broken hearts.

"I loved her so much," Vaughn whispered brokenly.

"I know," Jack said quietly. "I did too."

There were no more words needed between them. No explanations. They had come to an understanding. They were two men who had loved and lost Sydney Bristow and neither of them would ever love anyone else as much as they had loved her. 

They were two men who had been filled with such strength but now they realized how much of their strength they had derived from their love of Sydney Bristow. They were now broken men with broken lives and no place left to go.

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	3. A Twist Of Fate

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Chapter Three:

A Twist of Fate

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Oleg was standing in the doorway; she could feel his eyes on her. He was measuring her every movement, judging her every action no matter how small. Sydney sat at a low table in a large room, scanning the pages of a Rambaldi book. Her next mission for the Covenant would take her to France in order to retrieve an old painting that Rambaldi had painted around the same time as he made the prophecy. She was not sure what the Covenant expected to find from the painting or if they were merely such fanatics that they were just trying to get their hands on everything Rambaldi ever touched. She didn't care; this was the chance she had been waiting for. She would finally be able to escape her grasp and contact Kendall. It had been six months since she had been brought to this place, six months of isolation and torture before she had accepted that the only way to escape was to cooperate with them. 

She could feel Oleg's eyes on her, she continued to ignore him until he called her name, or the name she had become accustomed to replying to.

"Julia," he spoke to her softly now. He was almost tender, affectionate with her. He had become her star pupil and she could see how proud he was of her, of the achievement he thought he had wrought in her brain. One day she would show him how wrong he had been, one day soon she would kill him and every last member of the Covenant. She would show them all that she was never Julia Thorne.

Until that day, she had to maintain this façade. It was just another alias, just another mission. She tried not to think of Vaughn or her father. Tried not to remember that she was dead to them. 

She looked up and met Oleg's eyes, letting a smile touch her lips but never her eyes. "Yes?"

"It is time to go," Every word he spoke to her in that loving tone was like a stab in the heart. He spoke to her as if she was his child but he was not Jack Bristow, he had no right to think of her as his daughter.

"Of course," She got to her feet and gathered the book from the table. As she moved to leave the room, he caught her arm and pulled her to look at him. Hiding the grimace that crossed her face, Sydney forced a loving smile, thoughts of her father putting emotion into her expression. Oleg stared into her eyes intently and she remembered how those same eyes had watched her crying out in pain as he flipped the switch on the Electro-shock machine. He had watched her without emotion, merely curious as to how long it would take to break her. 

"Be careful, Julia. We don't want to lose our best agent out there. We have great plans for you, Julia. Don't forget that." He was trying to make her think he was truly concerned for her well being but she could read beneath his words. He was warning her, he was warning any shred of Sydney left inside her that she could never escape them.

"We will be watching you of course, we will want to know of your progress and we will be prepared to send in backup if anything goes wrong."

Sydney nodded at him and gently eased her arm out of his grasp, placing her hand over his. "You know how much I appreciate your concern, but I will do fine. Nothing to worry about."

Oleg nodded and let her go. She could feel his eyes burning into her all the way down the hall. Inwardly she cursed; she would miss her chance again to contact the CIA unless she could find some way to give the Covenant the slip. But if she disappeared they would suspect something and there was no cover she could easily give them that they would not question and find fault in.

Smoothing her newly blonde hair, Sydney shook off her uneasiness and took a deep breath as she stepped outside onto the airstrip. A nondescript jet waiting at the end of the runway would take her to Normandy. A sharp pain shot through her as she thought of going back to France. She was going to Normandy, the city where had been born. The thought of Vaughn brought tears stinging to her eyes and with a slight gasp, she quickly blinked them away. She could not give way to any uncharacteristic displays of emotion, she never knew when the Covenant could be watching her or what they would suspect. Pushing aside all thoughts of Vaughn, Sydney ran through ancient methods of meditation as she boarded the plane, she had gone on hundreds of missions in the past nine years and despite who she was working for, the missions themselves remained very much the same. She wished for the day when she would no longer have to think about Milo Rambaldi, much less hunt his archaic devices halfway across the planet. 

As the jet took off, Sydney closed her eyes and cleared her mind. She was Sydney Bristow, she could do this mission like all the rest and it would take her one step closer to getting back to her normal life. Back to her father. Back to Vaughn. That was all the strength she needed.

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Vaughn sat in the sand outside of his father's old home on the coast of Normandy. He watched the waves crash on the shore; the roar of the water was a balm to his troubled soul. The piercing agony of Sydney's death had dulled somewhat since he had come to France. It merely settled in his soul with a dull ache, like a hole in his side. 

He had been persuaded to come to France by his mother three months ago. She had recommended staying in their old home in Normandy, where he had been born. He knew that she had been worried sick over him after Sydney's death. She had told him to get out of the country, away from everything in Los Angeles that reminded him of his lost love. How could he explain to her that everything reminded him of Sydney? Just being here reminded him of Sydney, he had planned to show her this place, his childhood home, on their honeymoon. But that had never happened. He sat alone now in the growing twilight, empty bottles strewn about upon the sand and she was still gone, there was no bringing her back. No matter how much he drank, no matter how many times he thought he could hear her voice speaking to him, he knew in his heart that he was slowly deteriorating. He was losing his mind very slowly. 

He opened another bottle and gestured to the sunset, "This is for you, Syd." Taking a long swig, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and sighed. The colors of the sunset reflected brilliantly on the water and he almost felt a moment of peace at the sight. 

"You know, I always wanted to show you this. The sunset here was always one of my favorite parts of living in France. The sun shines in Europe like nowhere else in the world and I wanted to see it shining on you." The shadows were closing in on him now as the sun sank behind the horizon. A pale light glimmered in the sky but he could sense the encroaching darkness on him.

"You would have loved this house," he had become so accustomed to talking to her now. He did it easily, without thinking. He had spoken to his father plenty of times since his death. It pained him that that some of the most important conversations of his life were held with ghosts.

"I grew up here, on the coast of the sea, the whole world stretched before my feet. And the whole time you were out there somewhere, some crazy twist of fate brought us together." He took a longer drink from his bottle, he could no longer even feel the burning of the liquor, only the hollow void that settled where his pain usually took up residence.

"Another twist of fate tore us apart," he was whispering now into the darkness. The world was cold around him and she was gone. Every place was empty without her.

Taking another long gulp of the liquor, Vaughn lay down in the sand and cast his eyes on the ocean. He wondered if he slept long enough, the tide might wash him out to sea like it had done with her ashes. With a heavy sigh, he let his eyes close and the darkness come.

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The location was an old house on the beach of Normandy. Sydney was surprised that such a seemingly important piece of the Rambaldi puzzle had been left abandoned in this empty house. Part of her began to doubt the relevance of the painting as she approached from the distance on foot. Her senses were alert for any signs of life but there appeared to be no home at the moment but that could change very quickly. She resolved herself to get in and out with the painting as fast as possible. Something about the sight of this house on the beach disturbed her, as if she felt that she should know it but could not place why.

She entered quietly through the back door, it had been left unlocked and her sense of unease grew. Something was not right here, had the Covenant sent her into a trap? Were they testing her yet again? Her pulse quickened with fear but she steadied herself. They had no reason to suspect her motives and she could handle anything they threw her way. 

She found herself in the kitchen; it had a cozy feel to it as if a family had lived here once very happily. She ran her fingers over the grain of the table and closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the touch of something normal and solid beneath her fingertips. A family probably gathered here at night, sharing laughter and conversation over good French wine and food. She could not forget her own dreams for such things easily.With a sigh, Sydney pulled herself out of her reverie and made her way through to the living room. She looked around the room cautiously, searching for any sign of the painting or a safe where it might be kept. Instead, her eyes landed on family portraits that were smiling out at her from the mantel. A real smile crossed her face as she crossed over to look at the photos; she couldn't help herself from this small peek into a normal life.

She picked up one of the photos; a young boy perhaps aged fifteen. He looked familiar to her for some reason but she couldn't distinguish his features in the darkness. Furrowing her brow with concentration, she moved to turn on the table lamp so she could get a better look.

The light illuminated the photograph and Sydney's smile faded quickly, replaced with shock. Her eyes widened and the photo fell from her suddenly nerveless fingers. It landed on the floor with a loud crash, the glass splintering across the smiling face of a young Michael Vaughn.

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Vaughn woke with a start, the bottle still in his hand splashing into the cold sand with his sudden movement. Night had fallen in full on the beach and tiny stars poked through the blanket of the sky, illuminating the beach with an unearthly glow.

He frowned and looked around, wondering what had awoken him. It had been a sound of some sort, a crash or glass breaking. There was nothing. He was alone on the beach, the house looming behind him and the sea ahead. There was not another house for miles, he had liked feeling secluded here but now he was wary to be alone, so far from civilization. He brushed off the feeling and stood up, shaking sand out of his clothes. He didn't know why he always felt such an urge to nap on the beach; he was always a mess afterward. But he had no one here to impress so it didn't really matter; he had been a mess for six months.

Turning to go back into the house, he stiffened. A pale light gleamed in the den and he knew for a fact that he had not left it on. He may be a drunk, he thought, but he's an energy-conserving drunk.

Instantly he felt a wave of sobriety wash over him, a shadow moved inside the house. Maybe his mother had come up here, still worrying over him? No, she would have guessed he was out on the beach and tried to find him. And there was no car in the driveway. Whoever it was had not wanted anyone to know that they were there. But then why turn on a light? Confused but wary and on full alert, Vaughn felt himself slip back into agent mode. He jogged lightly up to the house from the opposite side, keeping out of view of any window the intruder might see him through. Breathing heavily, he stopped at the back door and remembered the small gun he still kept in his holster on his side. He kept it with him as a reminder that anyday, he could end everything but he didn't. He kept it for love of Sydney, and didn't use it for that same reason.

He eased open the door noiselessly, years of practice sneaking out of the house really paid off at this moment when he was required to sneak back inside. Soundlessly, he crossed the kitchen and peered into the living room.

A blonde woman stood there, with her back to him. A broken picture frame lay on the floor, the glass shattered into pieces beneath her feet. She was clutching one of the photos from the mantelpiece and he thought he could hear a soft noise coming from her. The light illuminated her from behind, making her a silhouette to his adjusting eyes. He looked down to see a gun gripped in her right hand and a wild fear rose inside of him. 

Aiming the gun at the back of her head, he waited until he was close enough to cock the gun. The sound broke the stillness and she stiffened, obviously accustomed to the noise but not entirely comfortable with it.

"Don't move," he ordered. He cursed his raspy voice, still thick with liquor and sleep. He stepped closer to her, pressing the gun into her mop of blonde hair. Something about the set of her shoulders, the poise with which she held herself, the distinct perfume that arose from her hair. It brought up strong feelings inside of him that he could not quiet and he hesitated for a brief moment but it was long enough.

She spun around faster than his eye could follow, knocking the gun to the floor and him with it. His head collided with the floor and he let out a low moan. A pointed heel pressed down on his chest and he opened his eyes, willing them to focus.

He found himself looking up into the tear-filled eyes of Sydney Bristow before the world went dark.

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	4. Puzzle Pieces

Chapter Four:

Puzzle Pieces

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Sydney stood frozen to the spot, panicked thoughts rushing through her brain. How was this possible? Was she still back in her cell, dreaming of him? No, this was all too real, the sound of the ocean roaring outside, the low hum of the refrigerator clicking in the kitchen, the raspy sounds of her breath and Vaughn's colliding in the air. This was the moment she had waited six months for but it was not at all like she had expected it to be. 

A low moan came from the man on the floor in front of her and she snapped out of her daze. Dropping to her knees beside him, she pulled him to her, cradling his head in her lap. He looked exhausted, paler than she remembered with new lines creasing his forehead. The smell of stale liquor and smoke rose from him and she winced in pain, recalling Oleg's words about Vaughn drinking himself into a stupor. 

She smoothed his hair and let herself really look at him; this tired and beaten down man was still the same man she loved so intensely. The mere sight of him brought fresh tears to her eyes, she could scarcely believe what twist of fate had brought them together this time. How was it that a Rambaldi painting had been hidden for so long in Vaughn's childhood home? There were deeper connections here that she could only guess it but she didn't like the implications. 

"Vaughn," she had spoken his name so many times in the past six months and now here he was right in front of her and she was at a loss for what to do.

"Vaughn, wake up." She caressed him tenderly, tracing the ever so familiar and beloved contours of his face. "Wake up, its really me, I'm really here. Please wake up." A tear spilled over and landed on his cheek. She could not hold back the sobs that wracked her body. Strangled gasps were escaping her throat and she rocked him gently, murmuring soft words of love. The moment was too much for her, the intensity of emotions that she had been barren of for so long. Every nerve crackled where her body touched his, the familiarity of this sensation was all too welcome to her numbed senses. Lowering her head to his, she pressed a soft kiss on his forehead.

She didn't notice the movement of his arm until it came around to circle her shoulders tightly, his hand softly moving in circles as if to comfort her. She pulled away to find clear green eyes gazing up at her, the love that she saw there was enough to bring another choked sob from her. 

"Sydney," he whispered her name softly, a smile breaking out over his face. "Ah now this is the best hallucination I've had in months. You're never usually this real." He sat up gingerly, rubbing the back of his head and then looking around the room. His eyes returned to her as quickly as they had left however and the smile grew. Oh how much she had missed that smile, it melted everything away, all the pain and sorrow, just to see him smile at her again. It was the same giddy smile she had received after she had pumped him full of adrenaline and saved his life in France two years earlier. The same smile that she had woken up to every morning after SD-6 had been taken down. That smile was an amazing source of strength for her in all those moments just as it was now.

He was watching her watch him; he was absorbing the tiny details of her appearance as if she would vanish at any moment. He couldn't know that she feared the same thing with him. 

"Your hair is blonde," he chuckled softly as he touched it. "You know I don't like blondes. Is this my fantasy or not?"

His words brought the pain surging back abruptly, the full impact of the agony she had seen in him hitting her full force. She was sitting right here in front of him and he thought it was a dream. Well she would prove him wrong.

"Vaughn," it seemed to be all that she could say. Her shock at seeing him had only grown since he had opened his eyes and started speaking. He studied her and for the first time, she could see a flicker of awareness in his eyes. He frowned suddenly and opened his mouth to speak but before he could, she had knocked him flat on his back once more.

Sydney straddled his prone form and kissed him hungrily, ravishing his mouth with her own. One hand reached up to grip the back of his neck, pressing him to her with all the force she felt necessary to prove that she was real, she was here, no illusion could replace this.

His hands were roaming over her back, sliding up her shoulders to mesh themselves firmly in her hair. She smiled into the kiss at the familiar gesture that she had missed so much, the tears still fell freely but now they were full of joy. Her heart lifted as the pain vanished into a fading memory. She was back in Michael Vaughn's arms and that was all that mattered. 

They broke apart with a gasp, both struggling for air and gazing at the other with wide eyes. Tears were pouring freely from his eyes and she was surprised when he reached up to wipe her tears away. He cupped her face in the palm of his hands tenderly and stared at her. There was a wild, unrestrained joy that lit his eyes now, a relief so profound that it made her giddy to see.

"It's really you," Vaughn could barely hear the words coming out of his own mouth; they didn't seem to matter anymore. Nothing mattered but this moment and the fact that Sydney Bristow was living and breathing right before his eyes. For the first time in six months, he knew no guilt or pain, no agony of despair. For the first time in so many months, he could feel his heart beating again. He was free. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure it would burst right out of his chest and jump into her hands where it would always be safe. 

Sydney nodded, a joyful expression on her face. "It's really me, Vaughn. Oh god, I don't even know where to begin but I never meant to leave you. I was taken, the fire was staged, they faked the bodies in my apartment. Oh God, it's all like a bad dream now." Her words were spilling out in a rush so that he scarcely understood them. The sound of them was what mattered, the sound of her voice, the small way it trembled when she said his name, just like always.

"Oh Syd," he gathered her up in his arms and noticed for the first time how badly she was shaking. She was as overwhelmed by all of this as he was. Emotions neither of them had known for far too long were rushing back over them in a wave, threatening to drown but they were both prepared to go under.

He slid one arm under her legs and scooped her up gently, pressing her close to him. She wrapped his arms around him and nestled against his chest. He could feel her heart beating rapidly through the thin fabric of his sweater and he took a moment to savor the feeling. Sydney's heart beating, something he would never ever take for granted again.

Carrying her to the bedroom, Vaughn flicked on the bedside lamp before depositing her gently on the bed. He sat down beside her and instantly, her arms were back around his waist. It was as if she was afraid if she let go he would vanish. Vaughn ran his fingers through her blonde hair tenderly and leaned back to look into her eyes.

"Sydney Bristow, I love you more than life itself and I have cursed myself every day since you disappeared for not telling you that more often." A great weight seemed to lift from his shoulder as he spoke the words. There was so much more he wanted to say to her, so much which tangled in his throat with haste to reach her ears. Sydney smiled at him, familiar dimples creasing her cheeks, that sparkle in her eye that he recognized and loved so well. It was if the past six months had never happened.

She pulled his mouth down to hers once more and captured his soul in a tender kiss. There was just too much to say that could not be expressed in any better way than this. Vaughn could feel himself falling into her, her fingers laced with his, lips pressed together, sharing breath. This was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed to survive was Sydney Bristow.

They sat together, two lovers returned to each other, they had transcended the shadows of death. Foreheads pressed together, breath escaping raggedly from their lips, they were complete in this moment because they were together again.

"What happened?" He asked the question with the innocence of a child but she could taste the fear in his words. His green eyes studied her dark ones as they looked down, away from his gaze.

She pulled away slightly and he could almost see her visibly hardening, the shell that she had worked so hard to preserve sealing back up where the cracks had formed. He knew that this was not a shield against him, but against her own pain. The implications of this moment rushed back to her and he felt a stab of regret as a sad expression crossed her face. He had brought her back to reality just as she had done for him, but her reality was a much harsher world to deal with. She still had a job to do; the Covenant would become suspicious if she didn't return soon. Unless the two of them made a break for it, they were a great team and they'd done it before. Whatever she was going to do she had to make a decision and fast.

She looked back up, the seriousness in her eyes did not diminish the glow of joyful love that emanated from her but it did sober him slightly. He felt himself coming back down to earth and realized with a faint shock that he was completely and utterly sober for the first time in the six months she'd been gone. 

Sydney laced her fingers through his and kissed the palm of his hand softly. When she spoke, the urgency of her voice surprised him.

"Vaughn, you have to listen to me very carefully because both of our lives are most likely in danger right now. Six months ago I was abducted by a group called the Covenant, what do you know about them?"

Vaughn frowned, puzzling over the name. "Not very much. I remember the name was on a list of possible terrorist organizations that I reviewed a few weeks before your disappearance."

"They are extremely dangerous. The Covenant extracted me from the building before they torched it. They set that fire to make you believe I was dead." A shadow of grief darkened the light in his eyes briefly but it vanished when she touched his face. Turning his head slightly to kiss the palm of her hand, he let her continue.

"When I woke up I was in a van. A man named Oleg had me prisoner but he is not the head of the Covenant, he is merely their instrument of torture." Sydney felt the words catch in her throat at the memory of what he had done to her. Vaughn felt a surge of hatred for this man who had hurt her; he would hunt him down and kill him with his bare hands before Oleg could touch her again.

"He made me watch my own funeral," Sydney choked now on her words and her face fell. Vaughn wanted to scream; he knew the exact van she was speaking about. It had been parked two feet from his own car that day. He had noted it as a curiosity but had been too grief stricken to care about who it might belong to. 

"Godammit, I saw that van. I was standing right next to it and the whole time you were inside." Tears burned his eyes again but he angrily wiped them away. "If only I had…" He trailed off when Sydney pressed a finger to his lips.

"Stop," she said softly. "You can't blame yourself, Vaughn. It was the thought of you that kept me going for so long. Oleg tried brainwashing me but failed time and again. He was trying to convince me that I was a woman named Julia Thorne." An ironic smile touched her lips as she pressed one hand to her brightly colored hair. "In a way, I am Julia Thorne now but only because it was the only way I could gain their trust. They think that I've been broken, that Sydney Bristow no longer exists but I'm here. I'm still me."

Sydney sighed and raised one hand absently to tuck a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Vaughn smiled at the familiar gesture, his fingers catching hers before they reached their target. He smoothed the hair back himself, lovingly.

"Yes, you are still my Sydney."

A shadow fell across her face and she averted her eyes from his loving gaze. "Vaughn, I've done things in the past few weeks that the woman you loved would never do."

"Does that really matter? You have been fighting for your life, Sydney. God, you should hear what I've been doing with my time without you." He shook his head sadly and gripped her hand tighter, pulling her to him and catching her lips in a gentle kiss. 

"You are still the woman I love, you always will be. Never, ever forget that Sydney Bristow."

She looped her arms around his neck, leaning her head gently against his. "No matter what happens, death itself cannot keep us apart. We always find our way back to one another."

Vaughn smoothed his fingers through her hair and slowly the smile that grew on his face turned into an expression of puzzlement. "We do, but this isn't coincidence that you're here in this house." He met her eyes, knowing that no lie would hide inside them when she spoke. "They sent you here didn't they? But they didn't know I would be here, that this was my house passed down from my father. What were you sent to find?"

Sydney frowned briefly, she had almost forgotten the mission she was on, caught as she was in this sea of emotion. He was right, the painting was connected to them in some way. The Covenant had brought them back together inadvertently through their greed for the Rambaldi artifact. Why had William Vaughn kept this piece of the puzzle hidden for so many years? If Vaughn had known that painting was now, technically, in his possession, he would have turned it over to the CIA long ago. 

"I was sent to find a painting by Rambaldi. I had no idea that this was your home, that you would be here when I arrived."

Vaughn frowned and Sydney could see the wheels turning in his head. She almost laughed at the situation they found themselves in. How easily they had slipped back into the roles they had assumed for so long, her giving him information and him picking up her train of thought so quickly that he had the answer before she did.

"The last mission my father was sent on involved a secret organization. I never knew the name of it but in his journal, he spoke of pieces of a larger puzzle that he had uncovered. He felt that the puzzle was dangerous, that the pieces would be lethal in the wrong hands. I never thought that he would keep a piece to himself, hide it away from the CIA and anyone who might try to get their hands on it. I never knew what he was talking about." He sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his tear stained face. She could see his inquisitive mind going to work, coming up with an answer to their questions and quickly discarding them before they reached his lips.

"Do you know where the painting is?" Sydney was afraid to ask; afraid of what answer she might receive. She found that she wanted nothing more to do with ancient prophecies or pieces of art. All she wanted was to lay down in Michael Vaughn's arms and never leave.

His answer shattered that dream as she knew it would. They had both slipped back too easily into the roles of Agents; they had to work together now if they wanted to solve this mystery. 

"I think I do."

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	5. Fire in the Night

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Chapter Five:

Fire in the night

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Sydney pressed her ear to the door of the vault, listening carefully for the telltale click of the tumblers. "You knew this safe was here, but never questioned what was inside?"

Vaughn shook his head, a part of him still continued to marvel at the fact that she was here. He watched her turn the dial slowly, memorizing the sounds faster than he could imagine, all the while still speaking to him. "I havent been in this house for years, and I never saw my father open it. I assumed that if I ever needed to know what was inside, my mother would give me the cominbination. I never imagined that there was a Rambaldi artifact here in my childhood home." He shook his head in disbelief, "We just cant escape him can we, Syd? My father was hiding Rambaldi artifacts, your mother was stealing them."

"Yes, but why was your father hiding this painting from the CIA?" Sydney shook her head and spun the lock one more time. The lock snapped into place and the door swung open.

"I wish I knew," Vaughn shrugged. "My father always went by the book, this is as much a mystery to you as it is to me."

"Well, maybe this will give us some answers." Sydney peered into the vault curiously, retrieving a large flat wooden box from inside. She looked up to meet Vaughn's eyes, the curiosity that sparkled there was reminiscent of a young boy. She fought off the grin that threatened to overtake her, along with the overwhelming urge to forget everything and rape him where he stood. Instead she moved over to the bed and set the box down. Vaughn checked the vault one more time to make sure it was empty, before closing it and setting his mother's ornate mirror back over it.

Syd was running her fingers along the edge of the box, eyes narrowed in concentration. Vaughn joined her on the bed, slipping on arm around her waist and settling his chin on her shoulder. He watched her actions quietly, she knew what she was doing.

After a moments, she seemed to find what she was looking for. A smile lit up her face and Vaughn heard a faint click. The lid of the box swung open, revealing what was inside.

A swirl of brilliant color assaulted her eyes as the lid opened. She gasped softly as a wave of dizziness swept over her, closing her eyes against the sudden brightness of the dimly lit room. Sydney could feel Vaughns hand rubbing her back, his concern on her even as his eyes were transfixed by the painting.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw just the painting. Similar to the style of all the Rambaldi paintings so far, this one seemed vaguely familiar. The painting showed a vivid sunset splashed with red, gold and pink. The ominous shape of a mountain loomed in the foreground of the painting, the stark black shape against the warmth of the colors gave Sydney chills.

"I've been here before," she murmured, lifting the painting out of the box. Vaugh looked at her curiously, recognizing the far away look in her eyes. He knew better than to interrupt her when she was caught in the moment like this but he couldn't help himself.

"When?"

"Two years ago after the F.B.I had me in custody. I went here to prove the prophecy wrong, this is a painting of Mt. Subasio." Sydney narrowed her eyes as she studied the painting closer, murmuring to herself. "Never having seen the beauty of my sky behind Mt. Subasio." Frowning, Sydney turned the painting over. On the back, a title was written in flowing script she had come to associate with Rambaldi. 

"Sky behind Mt. Subasio," Vaughn whispered the words aloud, the import of what this could mean hitting him suddenly like a slap in the face. "What does this mean?"

Sydney looked up at him, the painting falling from her nerveless fingers. "I don't know," there was a look of cold fear in her eyes that sent chills racing up Vaughn's spine. There was too much here to be coincidence, something much greater than them was at work here and clearly had been for many years.

A grim knowledge settled in Sydney's head, clicking into place as though she should have caught it much earlier. She shook her head, the fear that was creeping into her heart was too cold and unsettling to be ignored. Something was very wrong here.

"The prophecy wasn't talking about the actual sky. Rambaldi said '_my_ sky behind Mt. Subasio.' We never questioned his wording, he was talking about this painting." Understanding washed over her like icy water, prickling her skin. "I never saw this, we thought we had beaten the prophecy by sending me to Italy. Thought we had proved that I wasn't the woman he spoke of. But I am, don't you see?" Sydney's voice was rising, heated with anger and a deep pain hidden inside. Her cheeks were flushed, fists clenched, the sight was familiar to Vaughn but there was something different about the way she held herself. Her shoulders were set too low, head bowed, she was weary of fighting.

"The reason the Covenant wants me, the reason they faked my death! Unless prevented at vulgar cost." She quoted the ancient prophecy. Vaughn could only watch her in silence, fear growing in his heart, he could not stand it if he lost her again.

"Perhaps a single glance could have quelled her fire," Vaughn whispered into the silence that followed her outburst. His hand gripped her's suddenly and he felt his mouth go dry. "Your apartment was set on fire…"

Something inside of Vaughn broke. He stood up, the lack of him leaving her cold. Pacing before her, he shot angry glances at the painting on the bed. "What does it all mean? Why are our lives be wrapped in riddles? My father was connected to this somehow, your mother, sd-6, everything that's happened has already been predicted." He ran his hand through his hair, pulling at the pale strands in frustration. "This could have been prevented if we had studied the prophecy more literally, taken every word into account."

Sydney stood, pushing the painting away from her in disgust. She crossed over to him and laid her hand on his chest. His anger quieted as his tortured gaze fell on her. He had been fighting his own demons for so long that he had forgotten about the true fight.

"Vaughn, we don't know that. We don't know if any of our guesses are the truth and even if they are, it's too late to go back. We can't change what has already happened." She looked down at the painting and a grim resolve settled over her. "But we can change what will happen."

Vaughn slowed to a stop in front of her, "What are you thinking?"

She looked into his eyes for a long time, the emotions that swirled there were battling for precdence. Fear, love, anger, devotion, desperation. They mirrored what she felt in her heart. 

"We should destroy it."

Vaughn looked to the painting, his forehead wrinkling with thought. "Are you sure, Syd? There must be something more to it."

"Something the Covenant wants," his eyes filled with fire at her words. "I will not let them have it."

He looked back to her and studied her for a long moment. He had been so broken without her and with every passing moment in her presence, he could feel the wounds healing, the cracks sealing. Nothing was more important than her.

"If you say we should destroy it, then I will trust you." He drew close to her and laced his fingers through hers. "I don't want this to run our lives anymore, Syd. I want it to end. I want the life that we talked about for so long, free of danger and pain. Together."

Her eyes filled with tears at his words. Bringing their hands to her lips, she kissed his hands gently. "You don't know how long I've dreamed about that life. Alone, in the darkness, with only my memories of you and our dreams. I love you, Vaughn. Nothing will ever be strong enough to break that."

He pulled her close to him, she was shuddering with emotion. Wrapping his arms tightly around around her, he kissed the nape of her neck. "I'm not going to lose you twice," he whispered into her skin.

His skin absorbed her tears as the two of them clung tightly together. "You're never going to lose me again."

Their lips met in mid motion, hungry for each other, filled with passion neither had known for far too long. His hands slid beneath her sweater, smoothing over the flesh. They stopped when they reached the scar on her stomach. He tensed momentarily, tracing it gently with his fingers. Sydney winced at the touch, it didn't hurt but it was a reminder of what had happened to her.

"Syd, what…?" 

She shook her head and took his hand, "I don't want to remember, Vaughn. I don't want to remember the pain. I only want you."

They came together slowly, tenderly, their motions increasing with passion. Falling onto the bed, they shoved aside the the painting that had inadvertantly brought them to this moment. It fell with a soft thud to the carpet, neither paid it any heed.

They fell into each other for what seemed like the first time again. There was no pain or fear, only the strong bond of love that held them together, even through death.

Neither wanted to think of the danger they were in at this vulnerable moment of passion. The shadows were free for now, but they could not guess at the darkness that would come their way.

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	6. Off The Edge

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Chapter Six:

Off the Edge

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It was Sydney who heard the noises in the distance. Stirring herself from the languor of sleep, she glanced over to Vaughn, resting peacefully beside her. He was so beautiful, his face serene and innocent after making love to her. She recalled the sight of his face, twisted with agony as he spread her ashes on the sea. She would not allow any more pain to come to him. He deserved so much better than that.

She heard it again in the distance. A muffled roar, different from the sea and coming from the opposite direction. Cars.

She sat bolt upright, startling Vaughn awake with her movement. He glanced up at her with dazed eyes as she shot out of the bed in a panic. His shirt hit him in the head and he frowned in sleepy confusion.

"Syd, baby, what's wrong?"

"They're coming," the words were muffled as she pulled the sweater over her head but they put his every nerve on edge.

"What?" He pulled the shirt on and got out of the bed; hurriedly grabbing the painting and putting it back in the box. "Who?"

"Who do you think? The Covenant is coming for me; they told me that they would be watching me. Dammit! I forgot…" She looked up at him, her features softening. "Vaughn, listen to me. When they get here, no matter what happens, you must follow my lead. I will not let them hurt you but I cannot allow them to think that I am still Sydney or they will kill us both."

Vaughn zipped his pants up and crossed the room to where she stood, smoothing her hair into place. She had dressed in a matter of seconds and was ready for action. He had been out of the field for months, but the sight of her brought it all rushing back. He would have died for her the moment he met her and now was no different.

"We should try to go, Syd. We should get out of here, take the painting away and escape."

"We can't escape, Vaughn." Tears sprung to her eyes and she blinked them away angrily. A noise sounded from the kitchen and she turned with a gasp. "They're here."

She looked to the bed and smoothed it hurriedly with one hand, with the other; she snatched her gun from the dressing table beside the bed. Crossing over to the wall, she pulled the mirror from the wall and opened the vault once more with lightspeed.

"Get on your knees in front of the bed," she ordered.

"In any other circumstance, that phrase would have turned me on to no end," Vaughn could not help but comment wryly on the situation as he obeyed her order. It was the only way to relieve the paralyzing fear that had gripped his heart.

The sounds drew closer and Sydney moved into position before him, holding the box in one hand and her gun in other. Leveling the gun with his head, she winced in pain. "I'm so sorry, Vaughn."

He shook his head; "I've done worse for you than this."

Their eyes locked and a wave of loved passed through both of them, knowing that within moments they could very possibly die at the hands of their enemies. At least they would die together this time.

The door banged open and a man with dark hair entered, his eyes flicked from Sydney to the man kneeling on the floor. Sydney looked up at him and narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

"What are you doing here Simon?"

The man shifted uncomfortably but moved closer, his gun in hand as he looked down at Vaughn. "I was informed that you may be in some need of assistance, Julia."

Sydney let the hand holding the gun drop to her side but Vaughn stayed where he was, watching her intently. Simon looked alarmed for a moment before he crossed over to Sydney and placed his hand on her back. Vaughn clenched his teeth at the ease with which Simon touched the woman he loved, he noted the way Sydney stiffened and glared at Simon.

"I don't need your help, Simon." She stepped away from him smoothly and glanced out the door. "How many others have come?"

"Just me, we know that you're perfectly competent of holding your own, Julia. But we assumed that the house had been abandoned," his eyes shifted back to Vaughn and narrowed with suspicion. "Clearly we were wrong. Who is he?"

"He owns this house," Sydney stepped between Vaughn and Simon, her hand moving to the hand in which held Simon gripped his gun. "He required a bit of persuasion but he has been relatively helpful." She took the gun from Simon's hand. "I believe that he's harmless," She lifted the box with one hand and grinned emotionlessly. "I have our prize right here."

Simon reached for the box but Sydney pulled it away from him, almost playfully. "I don't think so, Simon." Her expression hardened into a grim mask of determination, her grip on the gun tightening. "You're not leaving with this." 

Simon smiled, stepping closer to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. "Julia…" his words trailed off into a grunt as Sydney jammed his own gun into his stomach. 

"I'm sorry, Simon, but you won't be leaving at all." She punctuated her words with a bang, the shot ringing through the air. Vaughn flinched and rolled to the side as Simon grunted and fell back, landing where Vaughn had previously been kneeling.

Vaughn rushed to Sydney's side, wrapping an arm protectively around her as Simon moaned one last time, his entire body twitching, before he went utterly still.

"Are you okay," He turned to her with a worried expression, touching her face tenderly. Sydney nodded as she turned to him, spinning the gun around; she handed it to him by the muzzle. "Take this," he hesitated momentarily, looking up at her. He could see fear in her eyes, this wasn't over yet. "Just in case. Let's get out of here."

"Where do you want to go?" Vaughn asked as they hurried throughout the house, shutting off the lights, leaving no evidence of their presence behind. Sydney shook her head, "I don't know yet. I won't be safe yet to go back to L.A., the Covenant will stop me before I ever get off the plane."

"We can disguise ourselves."

Sydney picked up Vaughn's bookbag and shoving the box into it, strapping the bag firmly onto her back she shook her head. "No time, besides, we can't go anywhere until we've destroyed the painting. Do you know of any safe place we can go to?" 

Vaughn followed her through the kitchen out the back door, his forehead wrinkled in thought. "There is a safehouse in…" His words died as soon as he looked up, Sydney froze beside him as the two of them stood alone in front of a dozen armed men. They were dressed in black from head to toe but the moon rising behind them bathed them in a bright light. He glanced at Sydney and watched her expression harden. The mask slipped into place once more. He was looking now at Julia Thorne, but he could see his Sydney hiding beneath the surface.

"Gentlemen," Sydney addressed the crowd before them casually, as if her head weren't about to be blown off by a dozen men. "Is this really necessary?"

"Agent Thorne," the man in front addressed her formally. "We were ordered to bring you and this man in or shoot at first sign of resistance."

"We're not resisting you, Agent. You can lower your weapons." Sydney strolled casually up to the man who had spoken. "Mr. Vaughn here has been perfectly compliant in doing what I asked, he helped me find where the painting was hidden. There is no need for such a display. We will come willingly."

The agent standing in front of her relaxed slightly as she touched him on the shoulder, the other men took their cue to let their guns drop to their sides. Vaughn felt Simon's gun still gripped tightly in his hand. The men turned their eyes from him to look to Sydney as she assumed command. The window of opportunity slid open and Vaughn leapt through.

Rolling forward, he let out a spray of bullets on the men opposite him. Grunts of pain filled the air, followed by the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground long after the last breath had escaped their lungs. There was a moment of perfect silence as Sydney whirled around to grab Vaughn's hand as he rolled past her. Working perfectly in unison, the two of them hit the ground as the world around them exploded. 

The remaining men started shooting wildly at the place where the two of them had stood seconds earlier. In the confusion, Sydney and Vaughn ducked the wild bullets, weaving their way through the men to hide behind the heavy armored van beside them.

"You okay?" Somehow, Sydney managed to hear his worried inquiry over the roar of gunfire. She nodded and got to work on the gasline of the car, "Just keep them busy, I'll get us out of here." Vaughn nodded quickly before turning back to firing over the shield of the car at the Covenant agents. A bullet whizzed by, narrowly missing his temple. He ducked and swore under his breath, "We need to get out of here."

"Almost got it," Sydney gritted her teeth as she snapped the line into place. "Okay, let's go."

The two of them turned and ran to the edge of the cliff, cloaked by darkness, the Covenant agents continued to fire wildly at the van. Sparks flared on the ground around the vehicle; shouts arose from the men on the other side. Sydney turned to Vaughn and gripped his hand tightly in her own. "We need to jump."

Vaughn looked into her eyes and saw the fear there, he had placed his life in her hands countless times and she had never failed him. Wordlessly he nodded and embraced her quickly, kissing her desperately in case it was the last time he got the chance.

Hand in hand, they took a running start to leap off the edge of the cliff into the roaring ocean below. Behind them, the van exploded with a blaze that illuminated their figures as they soared off the edge. The wave of fire expanded outward, catching the Covenant agents who could not escape. It raced over the edge of the cliff where Sydney and Vaughn had been standing seconds earlier, but they were already gone.

Within moments there was no one left standing. There was no sound save for the roar of the water that battled with the echo of the fire that burned in the night.

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	7. Prophecy

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Chapter Seven: 

Prophecy

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She was trapped beneath the surface of the water, could no longer tell which way was up and which was down. Her lungs were growing tight from lack of air and in her dizzy state, she felt her mind slip back to her torture. They had done this to her, submerging her in water, depriving her of oxygen until she had nearly passed out from the pain. She knew that the harder she fought the pull of the current, the more she would suffer in the end so she gave in to the tide. Her eyes struggled to stay open but her body had other plans. She felt herself beginning to drift and her thoughts turned to Vaughn, as they always did in the last moment of consciousness. Vaughn. Her guardian angel, where was he now?

A hand gripped her wrist suddenly, pulling her out of the rush of the current. She felt a familiar body wrap around her own as he treaded the water. He kicked toward the surface and they broke the water together, gasping desperately for air. She opened her eyes, the saltwater stinging them badly. Everything seemed to be a blur in the night, the moon on the water, the cliff rising above them, Vaughn holding her tight to him as he swam for the shore.

Finally she felt the warm sand beneath her feet, but that too quickly vanished as Vaughn gained his footing and swept her up into his arms. He struggled onto the shore, clearly exhausted, the weight of his bookbag with the painting inside almost dragging him down. He had pulled it off of Sydney's back when they had gone under the surface of the water, seeing how quickly she had sunk to the bottom with it on. 

At last, exhaustion overwhelmed him and he collapsed on the beach, Sydney still cradled in his arms. He held her protectively to him even when he could move no more. Her sight became clearer and she cupped his cheek with one hand. 

"You okay?" 

He chuckled softly and held her closer to him, "Never better."

Sydney nestled closer to him and turned her eyes to the house on the cliff above them. An orange glow permeated the sky above them and very faintly, she could still see the fire burning. With a heavy sigh, she collapsed once more against Vaughn. He wrapped his arms around her as a wave of exhaustion sweep over him. The last twelve hours of his life had been the most emotionally draining he think he'd ever known. All he wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep, here on the beach, with Sydney safe in his arms.

They were far from safe however, they needed to get out of there and fast. The Covenant would be coming soon and they would discover that Sydney had betrayed them. They would hunt her like an animal; Vaughn couldn't stand the thought.

"Where do we go?" Her words were muffled as she spoke into his chest, too weary to move her head from its position. Even soaked to the bone and bedraggled as she was, she was still the most beautiful sight Vaughn had ever seen.

"We'll take my car and we'll leave. There is a safehouse in Paris but the Covenant will have agents stationed on every corner by the time we arrive, looking for us." Vaughn sighed heavily and sat up, stroking her hair gently. "It looks like we're on the run."

Sydney couldn't help but smile at the thought, despite the circumstances surrounding them. She wouldn't want to be on the run with anyone but him.

"Well then, Agent Vaughn. I suggest we start running."

They swept the house one last time, taking what they needed and making certain that there was no evidence of their passage. By the time they headed out on the quiet road, the sunrise was looming on the horizon. The night behind them seemed almost like a dream. They sat together in the small car as it hurtled over the road; Vaughn drove with one hand, the other clutched Sydney's tightly. The insanity of what they were doing didn't matter to them; they were still so caught up in one another. Holding on to each other for dear life, they sped away as fast as possible. 

Sydney, curled up in the passenger seat, sat back and watched Vaughn think. She tried to keep from dozing off, forcing her eyes open so she wouldn't miss a single moment with him. His forehead was wrinkled in that adorable way that she loved, she knew that he was worrying, trying desperately to figure out a plan. She knew that she should be doing the same but this was the first time she had been able to relax in months, maybe even years. Her schedule before her abduction hadn't been the most luxurious.

Her musings were interrupted by Vaughn's voice, bringing her back to reality. "We'll head for Calais," he said. She noted that they indeed seemed to be heading in the Northerly direction. "Once we're there we can contact Jack and let him know the situation as best we can. From there we can get a ferry to England where he can meet us."

Sydney bolted upright, all sleepiness vanishing instantly. Vaughn glanced over at her in alarm, "What's wrong?"

"My father…" Sydney shook her head and smiled at him, cursing the tears that rose up in her eyes once more. "I've just missed him so much."

"He's missed you too, Syd." There was a note of tenderness in Vaughn's voice that Sydney had never heard him use when talking about her father. No, if there was anything between Michael Vaughn and Jack Bristow, it was not tenderness. But then, they had both been through a lot when they had believed she was dead. Perhaps they were getting along now.

Sydney slumped back into her seat and almost snorted aloud at the idea. 'When pigs fly,' she thought.

Vaughn glanced over at her again and Sydney smiled as her eyes closed, "You're going to get us killed if you don't keep your eyes on the road, Vaughn."

He chuckled under his breath and dutifully returned his eyes to the road. Smoothing her hair gently without even looking at her must be a talent, she thought to herself. "You should get some sleep, Syd. You need it."

She smiled at his caring words, half asleep already. "I love you, Vaughn."

Vaughn felt a lump rise in his throat and he swallowed it with a broad smile. "I love you too, Sydney."

In the shared quiet, the two of them raced toward freedom as the sun finally broke through the clouds to shine down on them. Faintly, Vaughn realized that he finally had his wish, to see the sun in France shining down on Sydney Bristow, and it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

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She awoke to the sight of the sun settling on the horizon; the car was stopped on the side of an empty road. Beyond her window, she could see that they were parked on the edge of a hill, grassy meadows spreading out into the distance. Sitting up, Sydney stretched and looked for Vaughn, he was not in the driver's seat.

Glancing around to make sure there was no one around, she loosened the hood of her jacket that concealed her blonde hair. Opening the door, she stepped out the car, swaying slightly as her body cried out in pain against the movement. Wincing, she rubbed the back of her neck to relieve the tension that had built up there.

She could see Vaughn now; he was sitting in the grass, head down. His backpack had been discarded beside him and she could see that he held something in his lap. His eyes were focused on it, studying intently, the same way she had seen him study countless reports in the past. The colors of the impending twilight played across his skin and with the bright sky behind him, he almost appeared a shadow of something much larger.

She approached him quietly, not wanting to disturb him, but curious as to what was going on. He looked up as she knelt beside him, her eyes on his face, dark with concern. "What's wrong?" She asked softly. She was surprised to see tears staining his cheeks, the two of them had done a good deal of crying in the past twenty four hours but there was something new in his eyes. Something she had seen once before in her own face. Wordlessly, he looked back down to the object of his scrutiny. Following his gaze, Sydney gasped at what she saw. 

The saltwater had clearly seeped into the box when she had jumped into the ocean, corroding the paint to the point where it was flaking away at the touch. Vaughn had ripped most of the paint away; it was heaped in a small pile beside him. Clearly visible beneath the paint was an illustration in the same style as the picture of her had been done. This time, however, the drawing was not of her, it was of Vaughn.

The paper was faded and somewhat worn away by time. Thick sprawling text that Sydney had long ago learned to associate with Milo Rambaldi overlaid the entire page, but Sydney could clearly recognize the man depicted in the illustration. It was Vaughn; there was no question about it.

He looked up at her, meeting her eyes silently and she recognized what she saw there. The same expression of disbelief and fear that had been in her own eyes when he had first shown her page 47 of the Rambaldi text. The page with the prophecy about her.

"Oh my god," Sydney leaned in for a closer look. It was unmistakable; this prophecy was about him.

"I couldn't figure out why my father would hide this painting," Vaughn's voice was flat and seemingly devoid of emotion but Sydney could hear the way it trembled. "The more I drove, the more the question plagued me. I had to know, and now I do." He couldn't take his eyes from the illustration; the words were starting to blur together in his vision. 

"For years, I've been told that my resemblance to my father is almost uncanny." He let out a harsh laugh. "Even your mother told me that. My father must have known that this prophecy was about me. He never broke a rule in his life until the very end, and it was because of me." Vaughn shook his head. "Why didn't he just destroy it?"

Sydney placed her hand tenderly over his that was gripping the frame tightly. "Maybe he meant for you to see it someday, we don't know what this prophecy says. We don't know if it means anything bad just yet." Sydney slid one arm around him and leaned her head against his. "No matter what his reasons, Vaughn, I'm sure that your father was trying to protect you."

Vaughn shook his head, "I wish I knew that. This makes me question everything, Syd. The last mission my father went on was to retrieve this Rambaldi prophecy. He was killed by your mother, who was hunting Rambaldi artifacts, but not before he hid the painting in my childhood home." There was a note of hysteria in his voice, his whole world had been turned upside down by this, she knew the feeling. 

"You were recruited by Sloane to work for SD-6 and inevitably put in charge of searching for the Rambaldi artifacts right after Danny's death. Within months we found the first prophecy which not only centers around a five hundred-year portrait of you, but also refers specifically to the painting of Mt. Subasio. Now we find this painting and discover the second prophecy hidden behind it. A prophecy about me." He dropped the battered drawing on the ground in front of him and stood abruptly. Sydney watched him quietly, waiting for his anger to subside. He had raised a lot of good points but she didn't have an answer to any of his questions.

"What the hell does it all mean?" Vaughn shouted in frustration to the darkening sky. "Are we supposed to believe that everything in our lives have been predetermined five hundred years ago by a crackpot painter? His paintings aren't even that good." 

Sydney couldn't help but laugh softly at those words. At the sound, Vaughn whirled around to face her, as if seeing her there for the first time. All the rage and anger drained from his expression and he looked at her, defeated. "Do we have no choice in our own lives?"

Sydney stood, stepping over the prophecy discarded on the ground. She drew close to him and reached out for his hand. "I don't know, Vaughn. I've never been one to believe in prophecy or fate but so much in our lives cannot be explained logically." She squeezed his hand and smiled tightly. "I can't help but admit however, that it is somewhat romantic to think that we might be destined to be together."

He smiled at her, unable to help himself. Just the simple touch of her hand eased his heart tenfold. "I've always known that," he whispered. "I just wish our being together didn't mean the end of the world or something dramatic like that."

Sydney shook her head. "Don't jump to conclusions. We don't know what the prophecy says yet; maybe you're going to save the world. Anything is possible."

His eyes darkened as they flickered from the prophecy to her face, "I guess this means we're not going to destroy it?"

Sydney frowned; it was ironic how determined she had been to destroy the painting when it had to do with her. Now that it concerned Vaughn, she had to know what it meant. She couldn't risk losing him.

"When we reach my father, he'll know what to do about it." She bent down and gathered up the strips of paint, putting them into the backpack. Cracking the frame of the painting, she removed the parchment containing the prophecy and rolled it up in a small tube. She placed the prophecy back in the box where it would stay safe and concealed it carefully in the bag. Vaughn watched her in silence, the evening sun shimmering on him in the last few moments of daylight. She turned to him, his eyes dark with fear, his hair aglow with golden light and for a moment, she truly believed that he could save the world. He had certainly saved her.

He reached out for her and gently; she took his hand, leading him back to the car. It hadn't been safe to stop in an open area like this for so long, they needed to catch up on the time they had lost.

Trading positions, Sydney started the car and the two of them headed off down the road again. Her hand was still clasped firmly in Vaughn's as he slumped back against the seat. His eyes were fixed on the passing scenery but they saw nothing that passed by, they were looking inward for answers that he didn't hold. 

"This is never going to stop," his words were uttered in a whisper so low that she barely heard them. She glanced over at him in concern, his face was gray in the shadows and she could not see his eyes. Squeezing his hand, Sydney returned her eyes to the road ahead.

"Yes, it will. We will make sure of that. It has to mean something that both of us are featured prominently in those prophecies. Whatever future Rambaldi predicted, we're caught up in it now and there's no going back. All we can do is try to figure out a way to use his predictions against him. Christ, he's been dead for five hundred years, he is not our biggest adversary, it's the people who take his words so literally that they will die for his cause. We will beat them, Vaughn. Together, we can do it; we'll figure it all out. I promise." She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it softly. He turned his fingers to stroke her face softly. 

"Yesterday, I thought you were dead. My whole world had fallen apart and I didn't even want to put the pieces back together. You were all that mattered. Since the moment I woke up on the beach, I found my world whole again, but within the same span of time; it was turned upside down. Some things will never change though."

"Like what?"

He smiled softly and closed his eyes. "You are all that matters. I promise you that I will die before they take you again, Syd. I promise you that I won't give up hope. Because I have you back and I have never asked for a greater source of strength than you." 

Sydney bit her lip at his words, fighting to maintain her composure. He leaned over to kiss her hand softly and then sank back against the seat. 

"Don't promise me your death," she whispered.

He shook his head, "I promise you life."

She nodded, a sinking feeling of unease settling over her. There was too much at stake her, they were gambling with the very meaning of their existance. How long would they run before the truth caught up with them?

The car sped on across the miles, Sydney uneasy at the wheel and the man she loved, sleeping beside her.

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"Agent, thank you for agreeing to see me. I understand that your last mission was a difficult one but you did a good job, as usual." Mckenas Cole sat at his desk, facing the young woman seated before him. The spacious office did nothing to relieve her sense of suffocation and she cleared her throat daintily before responding to him.

"Thank you for the compliment Mr. Cole, but I'm not here to be flattered by you. I'm simply here for my next assignment."

Cole stood in front of the woman and folded his arms. He was sure that he cut an imposing figure but she didn't look very impressed. With an indignant sniff, he handed her the file on his desk.

"Agents Michael Vaughn and Sydney Bristow, they killed an entire team we had set into place, in France last night." He watched as she flipped through the folder, an expression of surprise crossing her face as she studied Sydney's picture.

"How did the programming fail?" She looked up at Cole, accusingly. "I thought we were sure that she was broken. She was supposed to become Julia Thorne." She snapped the folder closed and glared up at Cole. She was not a woman who was accustomed to waiting for an answer to her questions.

Cole shifted uneasily, unable to stop the movement before she caught it. "We don't know the answer to that yet, but the situation is more complicated than we knew."

"Explain yourself, Cole." Her voice had lost all pretense of civility now, he swore he felt a chill emanate from her.

"Agent Thorne was sent to retrieve a Rambaldi artifact, a painting that we've been searching over thirty years for. We recently received intel that this painting was last seen in the possesion of a CIA agent, a one William Vaughn, father of Michael Vaughn. We suspected that the painting had been hidden in Vaughn's childhood home."

"I am still waiting for the explanation." Her words were like ice, her eyes like daggers. He tried not to flinch under her scrutiny.

"Michael Vaughn was Sydney's handler when she worked for SD-6. More importantly, he was her lover." Cole sneered at the words, at the fact that this man had captured Sydney Bristow's heart. "We have learned that Agent Vaughn was in the house in France when Sydney was sent in to retrieve the painting. He must have recognized her, and it's possible that seeing Vaughn again may have triggered some memories in Sydney that did not belong to Julia. Or…" Cole trailed off with a frown, unwilling to complete his last thought.

"Or Sydney Bristow was never broken in the first place. It is entirely possible that she has been playing us the whole time." She finished his thought for him, her words cut into him cruelly. He despised the thought that she had tricked them, but he knew it was entirely possible.

The female agent stood with an indignant sniff, collecting the files from the table in front of her. "You are a disgrace to our operation, Mr. Cole. You were in charge of Sydney Bristow and not only has she escaped, she currently has a priceless Rambaldi artifact in her possesion. An artifact which is vital to the plans of our organization."

Anger rose in Mckenas Cole at her words, before she could open her mouth again his hand rose to slap her hard across the face. "That's enough." He ordered. 

She clenched her teeth and spit blood at him, he did not flinch. "Your mission," he continued as if she had never spoken. "Is to find these two agents and bring them back to us. Sydney Bristow still has a job to do and we cannot risk Michael Vaughn returning to the CIA with this information."

"And if they fight back?"

"Kill them."

Her face twisted into a cruel smile, she took no greater pleasure than watching the suffering of others. She would see Sydney Bristow broken before her mission was complete.

Cole watched her carefully, "I trust that you will not fail me, Lauren?"

Lauren Reed shook her head, blonde locks falling across her face. Her smile grew wider and even more cruel as she considered the possibilities of what she might do to these two agents. "I never have, Mr. Cole."

With that said, she turned and strode from his office. 

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	8. Beauty in the Breakdown

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Chapter Eight:

Beauty in the Breakdown

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Vaughn knocked on the door to the bathroom softly, Sydney had been in there for under twenty minutes but even that much time out of his sight made him nervous. He was afraid that he would open the door and she wouldn't be there and this whole thing would be yet another hallucination conjured up by his grieving mind.

His eyes strayed to his bookbag on the bed, he could practically feel the prophecy that was held inside. It was as if the piece of paper held a presence all its own that was constantly hovering in the back of his mind, a reminder that this was all too real. 

"I'll be out in a minute," Sydney's voice filtered through the cracks in the door and Vaughn sighed in relief, leaning his head aginst the door. She was still there, he could breathe again.

They had driven all night until Vaughn had woken to the sight of Sydney nodding at the wheel. His heart had practically leapt out of his chest at his carelessness, she had been through so much in the past two days and it was starting to take its toll on her. They were both exhausted, mentally and physically, he had insisted that they stop at the nearest hotel. Instead they had found a small bed and breakfast that had been set up for tourists coming from Paris to the beach. Sydney had been reluctant to stop at such an unsecured location but Vaughn had insisted. The sight of her seated at the wheel, pale faced and clutching the steering wheel as her eyes drooped had terrified him. He would not lose her to forces they could not control such as exhaustion.

He heard the shower running in the bathroom, checking his watch, he touched his hair gingerly. The dye had dried to a stiff crust, black flakes coming away on his fingertips. Turning the knob to the bathroom, he found it open. He could see Sydney's blurry form through the glass. Her sillhoutte moving beneath the water stole his breath away. Shedding his clothes quickly, he slid open the door and slipped inside.

She was standing with her back to him, leaning against the wall, head resting on her hands. They dye ran down the bare skin of her back in ebony rivulets and he reached out to smooth his hand over her shoulderblades. She inhaled sharply at his touch but did not turn to face him.

There were new scars marking her flesh, faded lines across her back like those a whip might make. He swallowed his anger and traced the curve of her back soothingly. He had seen her kick the ass of men three times her size without breaking a sweat but the thought of her tied up like an animal, whipped and beaten, broken into pieces, blinded him with white hot rage.

Slipping his arms around her waist, he smoothed his hands up her stomach and hugged her from behind. She shivered at the touch, the water scalding their skin could not wash away the lingering memories of pain. He brushed his lips against the curve of her neck, fingers trailing up to trace the curve of her breast. She brought her hands down from the wall and covered his hands with her own. Leaning into him, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes. He kissed her throat gently, moving up to brush across her lips, igniting a fire deep inside. 

His gently stroking fingers found a new scar, running from the curve of her breast to her nipple. She moaned softly at the touch, pleasure mixed with pain. He trembled with contained rage and sorrow, silently vowing to track down the men who had done this to her and kill them himself, with his bare hands.

"My Sydney," he whispered into the curve of her neck, his words tangling with her skin. "I wish that I could wash it all away."

She turned in his arms and locked her body with his, he could almost feel the imprint of every scar on her body burning his flesh and he pressed tighter against her. Hands roaming over her flesh, tenderly, lovingly. It was the touch that she had longed for in the deep darkness when she had wanted to die from the pain.

"They carved me open like a pig," her words were threaded with deep pain and despair. He felt each one burn his soul. Her fingers clutched desperately at his skin, as if she was trying to dig deeper into him and hide there.

"Stripped me naked, whipped me. Tied me to a chair and shocked me, drugged me." She shuddered in his arms and dropped her head against his shoulder. "Sometimes I would wake up and I wouldn't know where I was, who I was. Wake up with new bruises, bleeding from places I had no memory of being violated." Her tears were mingled with the black water streaking her face. "They raped me of my very existance."

His fingers were clutching her so tightly he was sure he must be hurting her, but her pain came from a far deeper source. She had maintained her identity, her sanity but her spirit had been fractured, split in two. She had managed to regain her strength to fool them, to carry out the necessary charade. But now the mask had fallen away, the shell broken and the strength of Julia was gone. He held a very weary Sydney Bristow in his arms and he could feel her pain finally breaking through the surface. She let out a broken sob and he rocked her gently beneath the spray of water. The roar of the water mirrored the pain that washed over her, the moment when the wall finally collapsed.

"I did so many horrible things, Vaughn. I killed a man in cold blood to save my own life, a defenseless man, bound and gagged like I had been so many times. It could have been me, it could have been you." She was shaking like a tree caught in the whirlwind, her roots torn from the earth. He was the only thing keeping her tied to the ground.

Vaughn ran his fingers through her slick hair, the black liquid running clear and vanishing down the drain. He leaned his forehead against hers, kissing her softly. He could think of no words to ease her suffering, could only hold her up as she broke down. Her sobbing subsided slowly and she clawed unconsciously at his flesh, leaving deep imprints of her passage.

When she spoke again, her voice had lost the note of hysteria it had previously borne. "I used to talk to you in the darkness. I swore to you that when I found you, I would tell you how much I loved you. I swore that I would never leave your side again if only given another chance."

He rocked her gently against him and closed his eyes against the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. "I think I'll hold you to that," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. 

They stayed that way for a long time, bodies locked together, filling the empty spaces inside of their souls. Hands whispering across flesh, lips caressing every inch. Murmured words of love rasping across skin, between kisses. Their lips met somewhere in the middle, as they devoured one another hungrily. Comfort escalated to passion and gently, Vaughn pressed her back against the wall of the shower. Her fingers were dancing across his stomach, smoothing over his hips before meeting his hardness that pressed against her. His moan was muffled by her lips and his hips jerked involuntarily toward her. She smiled through her tears, through the kiss and wrapped her fingers around him, teasing him gently. His lips broke free from hers with a gasp and her heart surged with joy at the familiar expression on his face. His eyes were darkened in lust, replacing the pain that she had found there too often in the past few days. A slightly wicked grin creased his face and he cocked one eyebrow at her. 

"You'll be the death of me yet, Sydney Bristow." He murmured huskily, his words tracing a path over her flesh that his eyes followed. He kissed her throat gently, working his way down across her chest and over the curves of her breasts. Each small touch brought her heart up into her throat until she was panting to catch her breath. His mouth embraced one nipple, lavishing the same attention on it that he gave every inch of her body. Her fingers gripped his hair tightly, pressing his head against her flesh. He continued his downward path, paying no more attention to her scars than he did anything else. They were simply a part of the journey, the exploration of her body that bore testimony to the ordeals she had experienced. Naked and revealed to prying eyes, the scars told the story of who she really was, behind every alias and disguise. They showed every weakness she had ever exhibited, and the punishment for that weakness. But to him, they showed her strength, her unbending endurance. 

Dropping to his knees before her, he pressed his face into the swell of her stomach. He gazed up at her, a prayer on his lips, worshipping her body reverently with every caress. 

The love in his eyes stopped her heart for a moment before he returned to the task at hand, kissing her reverently, shooting sparks of pleasure through her. Tears stained her face, the water from the shower was growing cold but every drop brought her nerves to even more heightened awareness.

Pulling him up to her, she grabbed him desperately and kissed him hard. His arms circled her again, hands coming up to grip her bottom as she wrapped her legs around him. He slid into her with a smooth motion, it was like coming home, back to the light after the long darkness. Wrapped around each other as they were, bodies moving in unison, lips tangled with whispers of love, they were complete. Two halves merging to finally form a whole.

He felt her shuddering around him as he reached the peak. Surging hard inside of her, he leaned his forehead against hers, both of them panting for air. Their eyes locked as they moved together, a bond that could not be broken. His words were uttered in a guttural groan as she pulled him deeper into him.

"Let it go, Sydney. Let yourself go. You're safe with me, no one will ever hurt you again. I love you so much, I love you, I love you, I love you." His words were mingled with her same oaths of love as her head tilted back and she let out a broken scream. It was a cry of pleasure, of pain washing away in the wave of love that consumed her. He broke the surface with her, crying out her name, rocking her gently in the aftermath.

They stayed in that position for a long time, letting the cool water wash over them, catching their breath and waiting for hearts to slow. After a few minutes, Vaughn backed up, Sydney still wrapped around him, and turned the water off. Holding her to him with one hand, he slid the door open with the other. Grabbing some towels from the rack, he wrapped one around the both of them, opening the door to the bedroom.

He carried her to the bed, her legs still wrapped around him, arms circling his neck as her head drowsed slightly against his shoulder. Gently, he set her down on the bed, wrapping the towel around her gently and rubbing her skin dry. She looked up at him with wide, wondering eyes and smiled. Her smile was infectious, those dimples got him every time and he felt himself grinning back at her.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. He rubbed the towel over her freshly dyed hair, her skin seemed like pale fire against the black of her hair. 

"You don't look too bad yourself," Sydney reached out to run her fingers through his hair. He caught her hand as it moved over his face and kissed the palm of her hand. Her hand rested lightly on his skin, cupping his face. 

They gazed at each other for a long time, reveling once more in each other's presence. All fear and anger was gone, all thoughts of evil men who would be hunting them, of broken lives that they had left behind. Together, in the aftermath of making love, there was nothing but the two of them. There were no unfamiliar scars or unknown identities, there was nothing but pure love, untainted by the shadows that haunted both of their souls.

Taking her into his arms, they embraced once more and fell back on the bed. Entwined and complete, they curled close to one another, seeking the warmth of love that is complete and true, the love they had both been bereft of for so long.

Naked in the twilight, they curled together, bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces molded from clay to match one another. The sky darkened outside and they fell into a deep sleep of peace, the first either of them had known in months.

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Lauren Reed stood in the small room, empty of all human presence. It appeared that the room had been unihabited for weeks and the desk clerk insisted that no one had come in for several days but Lauren knew better. She could practically smell them, their presence lingering in the room. The telltale scent of fear was thick here, she could smell it like a dog hunting its prey. She would have wagged her tail had she had one. Instead she wrinkled her nose as she sat on the bed, laying down on the sheets she inhaled deeply. She could smell sweat and tears, the pervading odor of sex that hung thick in the room. The sheets hadn't even been changed yet, they couldn't be far away.

Sitting up on the bed, she rummaged through the side table until she found a map of France. Tracing her finger across the axis, she located her position on the map. Narrowing her eyes, she scanned the surrounding towns, searching for one that would serve their purpose, and hers.

Her eyes landed on the town of Calais, within ferry distance of England, her home country. She had several contacts there that would serve her purpose and she knew for a fact that there was a CIA office stationed there. A cruel smile twisted her face and she picked up the phone. 

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They strode into the hotel together, a young couple in love, barely able to keep their hands off one another. He was dressed in black Armani, sunglasses tinted against the sun, hair dyed black and spiked up. She was wearing a loose fitting peasant dress, purchased at a local tourist shop, her hair was dyed the same black as his and fell in waves around her face. It wasn't the best disguise they had ever conjured up, but it was good enough. 

He had one arm looped around her waist casually but he was clearly protective of the woman under his arm. When he turned to speak to her, he lowered his head so close to her's that they seemed to breathe the same air. It was as if they vanished into a world of their own creation in those moments. When he touched his lips to her ear to whisper something confidential, it was as if the two of them spoke a language of secrets and silence with every word. The tourists who passed by them, only took note of them as beautiful individuals, worthy of a second glance but never a second thought. 

He approached the desk, a bookbag slung over his shoulder, she seemed to vanish in the crook of his arm as if she didn't want to be seen by anyone. His expression was cheerful, his words lightly spoken but they froze the desk clerk motionless.

"We'd like a room in the west wing, please. Facing the ocean." Vaughn's words were chosen carefully and he tried to stress the key ones individually. It had been a long time since he had been in the field and even longer since he had been to Calais. His words seemed to prove effective however, as the man at the desk shifted slightly and nodded, without looking up at him. He handed him a key and nodded to the doors beside them.

"Take the elevator to the top floor," his words were spoken in a careful monotone. "Wait ten seconds and push the red button, it will take you where you need to go."

Vaughn nodded at the man curtly and smiled again, "Thank you," he said brightly, in French. "You're most kind."

Sydney and Vaughn turned and strode quickly away, arms wrapped around each other, a cozy couple headed to their room. No one took any notice.

The man at the desk watched them move away with growing trepidation. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he mopped the sweat off his forehead uneasily. One hand stretched out for the phone and hesitated, his hand hovering about the reciever. Swallowing hard, he looked back to the elevator as it closed behind Sydney and Vaughn. Picking up the reciever, he dialed the number quickly before he could hesitate again.

"They're here." He whispered confidentially in French to the person on the end other end.

"Good. Don't let them leave." 

The phone was hung up with an impromptu click, the tone buzzing in his ear. 

__

The elevator doors slid open on the fourth floor, Sydney and Vaughn stepped out into a long white hallway. Door lined each side and Vaughn checked the number on the key, 47. His hand on Sydney's back guided her as he ushered her into a quiet room at the end of the hall. 

Sydney collapsed into a chair in the corner of the room as Vaughn closed the door quietly behind them. He dropped the bag on the bed and crossed to the window on the other side of the room. He closed the drapes, blanketing the room with darkness, and turned back to Sydney.

"You okay?" She nodded wordlessly at his question and ran her fingers through her hair, distractedly. The ebony strands slipped through her fingers like dark sand in an hourglass. She looked up at him with dark eyes and he remembered her pain of the night before. He knelt before her, taking her hand. She smiled at his touch, but her eyes flitted uneasily around the room. Her emotions, repressed for so long were fluctuating wildly now that she no longer had to hold them back. Every time he looked at her, touched her, she was filled with a wild joy, but the fear was ever present in her mind.

"Its just nervewracking, I can't help but feel like, at any moment the Covenant will storm in and take me away again."

Vaughn laced his fingers through hers, "No one is going to take you anywhere, Syd. Not while I'm here."

She smiled weakly at him and in the dim light, he could see her eyes flicker to the phone on the table beside them. He squeezed her hands reassuringly and leaned forward, kissing her lightly on the cheek. 

"It's gonna be okay," he told her. Rasing her hands to his lips, he kissed the palms of her hands and smiled. "I'm going to call your dad now, okay?"

Sydney nodded in assent and as he moved away from her, she brought her knees up to her chest, hugging herself tightly. She suddenly seemed a small child, her lower lip jutting out slightly and her eyes lowered. He stroked her hair tenderly, constantly maintaining his physical connection to her, and picked up the phone.

She listened in silence as he punched in the numbers, speaking rapidly in French to the operator on the other end. His voice was soothing to her frayed nerves and she rocked herself gently on the chair, attempting to will away the knot of anxiety that clenched her stomach.Vaughn stood quietly, the phone to his ear, counting the number of rings from the other end. After what seemed like an eternity, the phone clicked and Jack's voice filtered through from the other end.

"This is Bristow."

Vaughn sighed in relief and glanced at Sydney who was looking up at him with wide eyes. "Jack, it's me."

There was silence on the other end for a brief moment, when he spoke again, his voice was low and curious. Jack could hear something in Vaughn's voice that made him uneasy.

"Vaughn, how may I help you?"

"I was just calling to let you know that the blackbird is flying freely again."

There was a deathly silence. On the other side of the world, Jack Bristow felt his world come shattering down. A tear of joy slipped down his face and he sat down heavily, unaware of anything but the words he had just heard.

"Are you sure?" Jack's voice was thick with emotion and Vaughn was relieved that he still remembered their code.

"Yes, sir. The winter was not as harsh as we had thought. It took awhile to mend the broken wing but the bird is soaring high even as we speak."

"Good to know. Thank you for informing me, Michael. I will stop by myself to check on it."

Vaughn nodded and his eyes flickered to Sydney's confused expression. "I'll be waiting for you." The line went dead before he could even finish his sentence and he dropped the phone onto the cradle with a sigh of relief. Turning back to Sydney, he dropped into the chair opposite her and smiled. 

"Jack is on his way."

"What was that code?" Sydney frowned and stood, her arms folded protectively over her chest. Vaughn shook his head. 

"After your death," he flinched at the word and looked up to meet her gaze. "Your father and I investigated who might have been behind it. That code was something we came up with to let the other know if we ever found you alive."

A bemused smile crossed Sydney's face, "You worked with my father?"

Vaughn nodded and chuckled softly at her expression, "Yeah, Jack and I have always had at least one thing in common. Our love for you," his eyes darkened as he spoke and Sydney could tell that she had hit a nerve.

"After you died, we had another thing in common, our grief. Three months ago your father came to see me, he was a mess, but then so was I." Vaughn stood abruptly and moved away from her, lost in the haze of memory. "He had been searching for answers but had hit nothing but dead ends, he had finally given into his grief. I told him that I would help him with his search but we never found anything. We were two men, stricken with grief, stumbling blindly in the dark searching for answers." Vaughn's head dropped and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. "We never found any. We had no hope. We were both drinking our way through the pain. We had become empty shells without you to fill the hollow space." Vaughn collapsed heavily onto the bed in the center of the room and looked up at Sydney. She stood, a silent witness to his pain, tears staining her face.

She crossed the room to sit beside him, taking his hand, the physical link between them reinforcing the fact that she lived and that she was with him again. 

"I'm so sorry." The whisper dropped from her lips softly. A wave of guilt washed over Vaughn. He turned to her and pulled her into his arms.

"Don't ever apologize, Sydney. None of this is your fault, we loved you too much to know how to live without you. It's not your fault that you're so damn loveable." He grinned and felt her laugh quietly against him. He could feel her heart beating in unison with his and he closed his eyes, savoring the moment. Sydney sniffled, wiping her tears against his shirt. Their emotions were running away with them again but he let the tears come. Soon enough, they would be forced to slip back into the roles of agents. They would be forced to put emotion aside and work to bring the Covenant down. They deserved all the time in the world to heal properly.

"Vaughn," Sydney pulled away slightly, a frown creasing her forehead. "The night I was abducted is still blurry to me, but I remember fighting with Francie. I remember finding Will in the bathtub," her eyes were filled with fear again as she voiced the question she did not know if she wanted to hear the answer to.

"Will is dead isn't he? My friends are all dead because of me."

Vaughn shook his head, relieved that he could give her a small bit of good news. "Sydney, Will survived."

Her eyes widened and she smiled through her tears, "Really?"

He stroked her face gently and smiled back, "Yeah, when we arrived, we found him slumped over, bleeding to death in the street in front of your burning apartment. He had no memory of how he had gotten there but he survived. He's even received a bit of a promotion in the CIA, not a field agent yet, mind you, but he's on his way there if he just did some training. But I think he's happy as an analyst right now, he misses you." Vaughn's smile faded and he lowered his eyes guiltily. "I haven't seen him in awhile, he was still in the hospital the day of your funeral. But he's doing okay, he's alive and he'll be overjoyed to see you again."

Sydney laughed through her tears, "Oh thank god." She leaned her head against Vaughn's, the next words spilling from her lips without her meaning to.

"And Francie…"

Vaughn swallowed hard and stroked her back soothingly, "Her remains were found but we know that they belonged to Allison Doren. We've never found the real Francie, she is assumed dead. I'm so sorry, Syd."

Sydney shook her head, "I figured as much the moment I realized who she really was. Francie, Will, You, my father. I have destroyed so many people's lives."

Vaughn shook his head. "Stop it," he commanded, his tone was a mixture of a loving scold and a stern demand, he couldn't bear the pain she was unecessarily inflicting upon herself. Her eyes widened at his tone and she gazed at him for a long moment. He held her gaze, unbending, making it clear to her that he would not stand for this. She remembered his words of long ago, it seemed like a lifetime now. "No one is harder on themselves than you are."

She nodded, giving up her guilty conscience. She knew it would only cause her more pain in the long run. Looking away, she licked her dry lips and rubbed the back of her neck wearily. Seeing the motion, Vaughn's hand raised automatically to rest on her neck, rubbing the tense muscles gently.

"When will my dad get here?" She asked him, a note of hope in her voice. 

"He knows that I'm in France, he most likely traced the call I made from the phone. We arranged several meeting places in various countries with contacts, he'll know that from here we'll move onto England where he can meet us safely. I implied that as best I could with my message."

"Hmm, when does the next ferry leave?"

Vaughn checked his watch, it was two in the afternoon. "At six, I believe."

Sydney smiled at his words, "Good. That gives us a few more hours alone together."

Vaughn grinned mischeviously at her suggestive tone, "Why, Agent Bristow, are you trying to seduce me?" He feigned shock and clasped his hands over his heart. "All my conceptions of you being such a good girl have been completely killed." He hung his head as if mourning lost fantasies. Sydney laughed and pushed him back against the bed. 

"I'll give you some conceptions to think about," she murmured hungrily against his lips before capturing them with her own. He pulled her closer to him and they melted into one another, a tangle of limbs in the twilight.

__

Outside of the town of Calais, a sleek black car sped along the roads. Lauren Reed sat behind the wheel, on the seat beside her the file lay open to the photos of Agents Vaughn and Bristow. She found her eyes continually straying to his face, dirty thoughts entering her mind. He was quite an attractive man and she hadn't had a decent adversary in years. Perhaps after she killed Sydney, she would keep him for herself. It would be fun to break him, to see his anguish as he watched her slowly torture the woman he loved before she killed her before his helpless eyes. It would be a pleasure to break his mind, twist him to her advantage. 

Indeed, this hit could be the best thing that happened to her. She would increase her standing in the Covenant and gain some eye candy to boot. 

She pressed down harder on the gas, the car racing across the open roads. A perverse smile twisted her features and she laughed in the rush of the wind. He would be hers. She would make certain of that.

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	9. Face to Face

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Chapter Nine:

Face to Face

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The wind was stirring from the north, it raced over her skin, swirling the skirts of her dress around her legs. They stood together at the harbor, hand in hand, watching the boats come in. Sydney felt naked in the dress, exposed out in the open, she gripped Vaughn's hand tighter and he drew her close to his side. 

"What time is it?" She asked, bringing his wrist up to look at his watch. "Almost six, is that our ferry?" She nodded to the ship coming into the harbor in front of them and Vaughn glanced around.

"Yeah, I think so. You ready?" He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and turned to her questioningly. Sydney nodded and glanced around quickly, searching for any suspicious behaviour.

Her eyes landed on a blonde woman approaching them from a distance. She was staring straight at them, garbed in black, Sydney could see a lump at her side beneath her jacket. Her hand rested easily on the holster of the gun and when she met Sydney's eyes, she smiled. It was a cruel smile that almost froze her to the bone. 

"Vaughn," she whispered his name without thinking, frozen to the spot. Her hand slipped to her side, where her gun was strapped securely against her thigh. He glanced at her, alarmed by the way she spoke his name, the sudden way she stiffened at his side. 

"What is it?" He followed her gaze and saw the woman, striding ever more rapidly now. Her gun had slipped into her hand and she looked at him, smiling even wider. Her expression twisted now to one of perverse lust and Sydney growled low in her throat. Vaughn averted his eyes from the woman and looked to Sydney, the woman he would die to protect. Gripping her hand even tighter, he led her to the ferry awaiting them.

"Just keep going, Syd. I'm not going to let her hurt you."

The two of them strode quickly onto the boat, handing their tickets to the man at the bottom of the ramp calmly, as if they weren't running for their lives. Neither turned back to see the woman break into a run, toward the ferry.

They got on board the ship and quickly moved to the other end. Sydney reached beneath her dress, slipping her gun into her hand and Vaughn did the same for the gun beneath his jacket. Hands clasped tightly, they ducked behind behind the boarding passengers and made their way up to the second level of the ship. At the far end, they crouched beside the railing, hidden by a tall pillar and watched the incoming passengers board the ship.

"Did you recognize her?" Vaughn asked, catching his breath as they slid to a stop beside the railing. Sydney shook her head and tightened her grip on her gun.

"No but she recognized me, and you. Covenant assasins will stop at nothing to catch their prey." Sydney's eyes darkened, memories washing over her briefly at the thought. Vaughn traced his fingers along the palm of her hand, soothing the pain that surged up in her. 

"There she is," Sydney whispered. The blonde woman had boarded the boat, glancing around as if in wonder. Several other passengers spoke to her and she threw back her head in laughter. The gun had been slipped back into the holster, concealed by the dark jacket she wore. She had slipped into the role of naïve tourist, delighted by everything around her. Sydney gritted her teeth, it was the same role she and Vaughn were playing at that very moment. She cocked her gun and leveled it between the bars of the railing. Closing one eye, she struggled to gain a precise mark on the woman, but too many other tourists swarmed around her. 

"Godammit," Sydney cursed under breath. "She's using the crowd as a human shield. I can't get a clear hit."

Vaughn glanced around and saw several other passengers coming up the stairs to the second level. His hand slipped over Sydney's and he eased the gun down to her side. "Put it away," he whispered. "We can't risk being arrested."

Sydney gritted her teeth and slipped the gun back under her skirt, securing it firmly to her thigh. The two of them stood quickly, embracing one another, appearing as two loves, enjoying a cruise. Several passengers walked by them, giving them knowing looks. Sydney buried her head in Vaughn's chest. "Can you see her?"

"Yes," he breathed. "She hasn't spotted us yet but its only a matter of time."

His words were drowned out by the sound of a whistle screaming through the air. The captain was speaking over the intercom and the boat was pushing away from the harbor. They stood now on a ship full of innocent people and one very lethal enemy.

Vaughn's eyes skipped over the parts of the boat, searching for an empty space. The ferry was fairly large and most of the people were cloistered on one end, waving goodbye to those on shore. The other end of the boat was empty. Vaughn slipped one hand around Sydney's waist and guided her down the steps to the empty part.

Vaughn's eyes followed the blonde woman as she moved to the opposite end, her eyes scanning the crowd for them. Quickly, they slipped by her gaze and ducked out of her line of sight.

The two of them stood at the railing of the ship, the ocean roaring below them. Concealed by several large pillars, each slipped their gun back into their hands. Vaughn nodded to Sydney and they turned away from one another, glancing furtively into the corners of the ship.

"I don't see her," Sydney whispered. Her dark eyes slid over the empty boat. The sun was low behind her, casting her shadow on the deck before her. Turning back to Vaughn, she froze, finger tensing on the trigger of the gun.

Vaughn stood frozen, eyes fixed on her, pleading. Lauren Reed gripped his throat with one hand, the other hand held the muzzle of her gun to his temple. Sydney forced herself to breathe.

"Put it down," Lauren ordered. Sydney noted the English accent and the cocky way her words slipped out. This woman was not accustomed to failure, it was both a strength and a weakness.

Sydney didn't move, her gun remained trained on Lauren's head. "Let him go," she demanded. Lauren sneered at her, thin mouth twisting at her words.

"Not on your life, Bristow."

"Oh, I think it will be on my life." Sydney whispered, stepping closer. Her eyes flickered to Vaughn's and she swallowed hard at what she saw there. He was begging her to forget him, to save herself. She couldn't do that. She couldn't let him die because of her.

"You were sent to find me," Sydney said, she felt herself slipping back into the mask of Julia Thorne. Julia would be able to deal with this situation, this woman was who Julia Thorne was supposed to be. Cold, ruthless and cruel, without a warm feeling in her heart. 

"He is of no use to you." Sydney continued. Lauren's eyes hardened at her words and she let out a mocking laugh.

"Oh, I think you're quite mistaken." She turned her eyes to Vaughn's face and stroked his throat gently with the hand that was gripping it. "I think that I will be able to find many uses for this fine specimen of a man," Vaughn shuddered in her grip, swallowing the wave of bile that rose in his throat at her words. A wave of white hot rage washed over Sydney as the other woman's fingers stroked Vaughn's neck. She would murder her with her bare hands for touching him.

Vaughn met Sydney's eyes, forcing her gaze into his. She trembled beneath the force of his gaze. "Syd, don't give in. Kill her, you're more important than me." Lauren tightened her grip on his throat, choking off his words. 

"Shut up," she hissed, spit sprayed from her lips and speckled his skin. Vaughn shuddered in disgust and kept his eyes on Sydney's. Fear gripped his heart, paralyzing him. He knew that any move he made would be the death of Sydney.

"You've made our employers quite unhappy, Bristow." Lauren shook her head slowly. "You should not have done that. The price on your head is quite high, but I'm happy to collect." Sydney stood frozen to the spot at her words, watching her every movement. 

Sydney's head fell in defeat and the hand holding the gun fell to her side. With a clatter, she dropped it onto the deck and it slid to Vaughn's feet. His heart leapt into his throat. "Sydney, no…" She flinched at the sound of his voice, so full of love and despair. Tears filled her eyes as she raised her head to look up at him. Lauren threw her head back and laughed triumphantly, Sydney smiled, her eyes holding Vaughn's steadily. 

"Now," she whispered. 

A grin broke out across Vaughn's face and he pivoted in Lauren's grip, one hand coming up to push the gun away from his head. Lauren cried out in surprise, squeezing off a shot that careened wildly away from them and burned through one of the pillars nearby. The gunshot made hardly a sound as it whizzed past Vaughn, skimming his shoulder. He gasped in pain and shoved her backwards, she landed on her back on the deck. Sydney rolled across the the space between them and kicked one leg out, the gun went flying from her grip.

Lauren rolled away from Vaughn and turned to Sydney, hissing angrily. "You'll pay for that, bitch."

Sydney's face twisted in disgust and she threw a punch at the woman before her. Lauren caught her hand and twisted it around, her own fist colliding with Sydney's stomach. Sydney gasped in pain as the blow landed directly on her jagged scar. Lauren smiled cruelly, her eyes glinting with pleasure at the sound of Sydney's pain.

Vaughn rolled away from the two women, he pulled his own gun out of his holster and retrieved Sydney's from where it rested on the deck. With a gun in each hand, he turned back to the two women caught in the scuffle. He hesitated, Sydney and Lauren were engaged in a full blown brawl, he could not shoot without risking Sydney's life. 

Lauren had a fist full of Sydney's black hair and was pulling her head down. Sydney winced in pain and wondered if the woman knew any methods of fighting that one didn't learn in junior high catfights. Still, it hurt like a bitch. Lauren yanked harder on her hair, ripping several strands from the roots. Sydney felt blood fill her mouth as she bit down hard on her lip. Twisting up under Lauren's arm, she brought her fist up to connect with the other woman's jaw. Lauren's head snapped back, blood spraying from her lips and Sydney smiled grimly in a brief moment of triumph. Lauren swung one leg beneath her and knocked Sydney off her feet. Hitting the deck, Sydney rolled away as Lauren launched herself at the spot where she had lain. Both women rolled to their feet simultaneously and Lauren staggered slightly as she stood. She was an assasin, a sniper by trade, she was not as trained for physical combat as Sydney was.

Lauren's eyes fluttered briefly from the pain and Sydney took the opportunity to spin around, stretching her leg out gracefully to kick Lauren in the face. Lauren stumbled backward, her head snapping forward as she collided with the railing. Sydney pinned her in that spot, her hand circling the other woman's throat the same way Lauren had gripped Vaughn's.

"You made one mistake, Ms. Reed." Sydney hissed, she recalled now where she had seen this woman before. It had been in that dark room, when Cole had forced her to kill an innocent man in cold blood. He had addressed her by name but Sydney had been too consumed by fear and anger to take note. 

Lauren's eyes darkened and a cold fear crept over her, she had never been in this position before, never faced an adversary that could beat her. A burning anger rose in her heart, she would kill this woman very slowly and with much pleasure.

"What is that?" Lauren hissed, spitting into Sydney's face as she spoke. Sydney grinned, the cruel mask of Julia Thorne slipping into place for a brief moment. Her smile was cruel, a reflection of Lauren's perverse grin.

"You made this personal. You will die before you touch the man I love again."

With those words, Sydney shoved her hard against the railing. Lauren toppled over the edge with a shriek, catching hold of the edge of the ship. Sydney glared down at her with hatred in her eyes. Lauren looked up, pleading for her life. With a cruel smile, Sydney stepped on her fingers and watched with pleasure as the woman lost her grip. Her scream was swallowed by the roar of the ocean as it consumed her. 

Sydney stepped back, her cold façade melting away as she turned to face Vaughn. He was collapsed on the deck, his face was pale, one hand gripped his shoulder as blood seeped out between his fingers. His eyes were fixed on her, filled with desperation. With a gasp, Sydney rushed to his side.

"Vaughn," she knelt beside him and touched his face lovingly. "You're hurt."

Vaughn shook his head, smiling weakly. "Just a scratch," he whispered. His voice was thick with pain and he grimaced as she touched his arm. Sydney swallowed hard, tasting the sharp sting of blood as she did so. She cursed herself for not being able to protect him better.

Vaughn smiled as he watched her rummage through the backpack beside him, searching for the first aid kit they had packed. Raising his uninjured arm, he touched her face gently, wiping away the blood that stained the corner of her mouth. 

"You were amazing, just now." He whispered. Sydney shook her head and pulled a roll of gauze from the kit.

"Not amazing enough, she hit you didn't she?"

Vaughn shook his head, "My own fault. I didn't move fast enough. But your moves are still perfect."

Sydney eased his torn jacket away from his shoulder and he winced in pain. She inhaled sharply at the angry streak of red that carved his flesh. Unrolling the gauze, she began to wind it around the wound.

Vaughn watched her, his eyes filled with concern. "Did she hurt you?" He whispered, loathing mingled with love and concern for her. Sydney shook her head.

"Nothing I can't handle," she glanced around at the still empty deck. "I'm amazed no one heard us."

Vaughn shook his head, gesturing weakly toward the other end of the ship. "This is a pretty high class ship we're on here. Everyone is at dinner on the other end, can you hear the music?"

Sydney paused a moment, her head up and ears alert. Faintly she heard music drifting from the other end of the ship, a cheerful waltz. She chuckled.

"I guess our luck is better than we thought." She frowned. "Though the fact that that woman caused us to miss a meal makes me hate her even more. I'm hungry."

Vaughn laughed softly, the sound trailing away into a hiss as Sydney tied the makeshift tourniquet off. She looked into his eyes and lowered her head onto his chest. He stroked her hair gently, sitting up to wrap his arms around her, ignoring the pain that shot through him.

"Its okay, Syd. She's gone, we're safe for now. Your father will be waiting for us by the time we get to London. Everything is going to be okay."

Sydney shook her head and looked up at him, "That's just it, Vaughn. I'm not afraid anymore. I want more to come. I enjoyed pushing her off the edge, knowing that finally she would suffer a small amount of what I suffered." Sydney shivered and her eyes took on a distant look. "Have I lost myself in Julia Thorne?"

Vaughn shook his head and cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were filled with so much love, it made her heart break.

"You haven't lost anything, baby." He kissed her softly. "Besides," he grinned. "I have to admit that I enjoyed it just as much when you pushed her off."

Sydney laughed, blinking away the tears. She kissed him again and stood, helping him to his feet. She slid her arm around his waist, supporting his weight as he leaned against her. Slinging the backpack over her shoulder, the two of them made their way to the other end of the ship. Sydney looked up at him, a glint in her eyes.

"Do you think we could still make dinner?" She asked. Vaughn laughed and followed her into the room. 

__

Jack Bristow hurried through the airport, a single bag slung over his shoulder. He ignored the indignant people that he pushed out of his way, he was a man with a purpose. He moved through the crowd like a fish through water, the waves of people parted before him lest they be crushed beneath his feet. Vaughn's words still echoed in his head, if he had not recognized their code, Jack would have known the truth from the sound of his voice. Vaughn had come back to life and he had heard it over the thin wires that brought the message to him. Only one person ever held the power to make Michael Vaughn sound like that, Jack knew. Sydney was alive, his Sydney. His little girl. 

Jack blinked back the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. There was no time for this now, there would be plenty of tears when he saw her again. The moment Jack had hung up on Vaughn, he had phoned Dixon, informing him of what he knew. Jack recalled Dixon's shocked tone clearly, he knew that he was not fully convinced. He knew that Dixon wanted Sydney alive just as much as he did, but he could not be convinced until he saw her in person. Nonetheless, he had allowed Jack to take one of the CIA's private jets to London, with Jack's solemn promise that he would bring Sydney home safely.

Mentally, Jack ran through the list of places he and Vaughn had designated for a meet in case this ever occurred. There were two locations in London but one was closer to the coast, a safe house located in the East. He had traced Vaughn's phone call from Calais and from the makeshift code Vaughn had given him, he knew they would most likely be coming over water. He only hoped that they hadn't met with any enemy resistance just yet, he couldn't bear the thought of finding his daughter only to lose her again.

There was a private car waiting for him outside, CIA issue, with the keys still in the ignition. Jack slid inside and sped off as fast as he could. His mind was filled with thoughts of Sydney, memories buried deep inside. They had consumed him these past six months, tormenting him until he had been on the verge of madness. The thought of her alive brought his soul back to life. His heart was beating again, filled with love of his daughter.

"Hold on, baby." Jack whispered to the open road, his words lost in the rush of the wind. "Daddy's coming. I'm coming."

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She was trapped beneath the surface of the water, unable to tell which way was up and which was down. The heavy bulk of the ship was moving beside her, the current had pushed her to the side, out of the path of the ship's course. She narrowly avoided the whirring blades that powered the ferry. Cutting swiftly through the water, she shed her bulky jacket and empty gun holster. She stripped her clothes off as she swam, the icy water biting into her skin but it allowed her to move easier. 

Her lungs were growing tight from lack of air, spots floated before her eyes in the dark water and she kicked harder. She could see nothing but the face of Sydney Bristow, looming in her mind's eye. She was filled with a burning hatred as she thought of the woman who had beaten her. And the way the man had looked at her, Vaughn. Jealousy washed over her like the currents of the waves on her skin. She was blinded to all else as she saw the two of them behind closed lids. She would make them pay. 

Breaking the surface of the water, she saw the ship moving in the opposite direction. Cursing angrily, she treaded the water, searching for any other boats in the immediate vicinity. 

A spotlight landed on her, blinding her to all else around her. She blinked and raised one hand as if to ward off the bright light. She was a creature of darkness, of pain and betrayal, such bright pure light physically hurt her.

A voice filtered through the megaphone, speaking rapidly in French. She strained to understand what they were saying over the roar of the water.

"Stay calm, we are a rescue boat. Are you hurt?"

Lauren shook her head and remained where she was, obeying their command. The small boat came up beside her and a raft was thrown overboard. Catching hold of it, she swam swiftly to the edge.

A man leaned over, his hand stretched out for her to grab hold of. She gripped his wrist tightly, pulling herself onto the ship. The man's eyes widened as he looked at her, scantily clad in a black bra and thong that clung to her skin. He swallowed hard, struggling to disguise his lust. Lauren smiled suggestively and threw her arms around him in relief, rubbing her slick body against him.

"Oh thank heavens you found me!" She let out a fake sob of distress and pressed closer to him. "I was sure that I was done for." Lauren glanced around the small boat quickly, finding no one else on board. She grinned in perverse pleasure, luck had turned her way once more.

Pressing harder against the pudgy man, Lauren drew back and thrust her hips against his. "Please," she murmured huskily. "Let me thank you properly."

The man's eyes widened with surprise and thinly veiled lust. Quickly he turned and switched off his radio so the men on the other end would not inadvertantly hear their cries of pleasure. Excitedly, he turned back to Lauren and slid his hands over her hips.

"You can thank me any way you'd like, baby." He whispered in french and Lauren smiled, wrapping her hands around her neck and gyrating against him. 

He moaned and she smiled, quickly she twisted her hands in a circular motion and his neck snapped. He fell to the deck with his hand still gripping the zipper of his pants. Lauren sniffed with disgust and powered the boat up, speeding away into the distance after the quickly receding ferry. Once she hit the open water, she would dump his body and be rid of the smell. Rummaging through the boat's storage, she retrieved a wetsuit and slipped into it. 

Her face was a mask of determination, mingled with overpowering hatred. She sped toward the ferry with that same twisted smile on her face. She would give Sydney Bristow the last surprise of her life.

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	10. Into The Unknown

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Chapter Ten:

Into the Unknown

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The world beyond the foggy windows was a blur, vanishing swiftly behind the wheels of the car. Jack drove automatically, eyes fixed on the road but barely seeing the lines as they vanished under him. All he could see was Sydney. Images of her face consumed him, like the photographs he had seen on Vaughn's coffeetable months ago. He could see her in his mind, a baby crying for comfort, a child bereft of love, a woman whose eyes held secrets as deep and dark as his own. He longed to go back and change it all, to see joy in her eyes instead of fear. 

It had begun to rain. The cold drops sliding down his window like the tears he had shed far too often in the past months without her. The world outside was dreary and grey but there was light in his heart again. He could see the ocean in the distance, a looming body of grey that shimmered beneath the clouds. She was out there, coming closer to him with every passing moment, he could almost feel her presence drawing near. He had bypassed the safehouse, finding it empty, and proceeded directly to the harbor. He was early, having sped the entire way from the airport to the sea. He couldn't wait in the silence of the safehouse for them, the yawning emptiness mirrored what he felt inside of him for so many long months. He needed to see her, to touch her, to hold her in his arms. 

He pulled up to the harbor as a ship was coming into dock, passengers were departing from the ferry in small groups. They shielded themselves from the onslaught of the rain, hands covering heads, rushing quickly to meet family and friends who stood waiting for them. Jack stepped out of the car, cautiously. He checked the gun at his side and scanned the faces of the crowd. The mist veiled his eyes, transforming the crowd of people into shapeless figures that rushed around him. But when she appeared at the top of the ramp, his sight cleared and fixed on her.

His heart caught in his throat at the sight of two figures walking down the ramp together. They stood tall, disregarding the rain that fell in heavy curtains on their exposed skin. Her hair was dark, her face was pale and turned toward the man beside her. He had one arm tucked protectively around her, hugging her close to him as they walked. She wore dark sunglasses despite the grey light of the day and loose clothing, a bag slung over her back. She may have been unrecognizable to anyone else, but the way she carried herself, the way she took each step with a confidence that was unique to Sydney.

Her gaze lifted to look out over the harbor, scanning the area as Jack himself had just done, wary of any threat that might face her. Her eyes drifted over him and then snapped back with clarity. Her eyes widened as Jack slid his sunglasses off and stared at her, heart pounding in his chest. 

Sydney faltered and Vaughn turned to her in concern, the crowd rushed past them like water over stones. Her eyes were locked on his and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. Jack could see her lips forming one word, could practically hear her voice calling him.

"Daddy," she whispered. He felt something unfamiliar break over his face, a smile. Gripping Vaughn's hand, Sydney strode down the ramp quickly, rushing to meet him, Vaughn trailing after her.

Tears burned Jack's eyes as his daughter ran toward him, he found himself moving closer to her though he had no memory of moving his feet. Some force of nature propelled him to her and the moment when she crashed into his arms, the tears broke free. Her arms locked tightly around him and a cry of joy escaped her lips. 

"Daddy."

Jack hugged her close to him, pressing his face into her hair and breathing deeply. She held him in a death grip, he had forgotten how strong she was. She was shaking with the force of emotion that gripped her body. Burying her face into shoulder, she broke into childish sobs. For a moment, Jack was transported back thirty years to the day she had learned of her mother's death. If only she were six years old again and he could do it all over.

"Sydney," his whisper was that of a dying man who had finally attained salvation. For the first time in months, he could breathe without smelling the smoke, his heart beat without hurting. He could hold his daughter in his arms again.

He closed his eyes and memorized every detail of this moment, swearing silently never to let any moment with her go to waste ever again. He had already missed so much.

Sydney stood still in his arms for a few moments, pouring her heart out through her broken sobs. She had been on an emotional rollercoaster for days, had become to accustomed to the feeling of tears staining her flesh. Jack just held her in his arms, rocking her gently as if she were a baby again and he could simply lull her fears away.

After a few moments, she pulled back and looked him in the eyes. She reached out and wiped away his tears with the palm of her hand, smiling gently as she did so. 

The cracks in his heart smoothed away at the sight of her dark eyes shining up at him. She was so beautiful, he could scarcely believe he had ever created something so beautiful.

"Sydney, you're a sight for weary eyes," he frowned and traced the delicate contours of her face gently. There were bruises rising up to form on the surface, marring her pale flesh. There was a slit of dried blood on her lip from a recent cut. He inhaled sharply and put aside his rage.

"Who did this to you?" He looked up abruptly to Vaughn, who had been standing quietly to the side, watching them and yet, still watching the crowd around them. He was on alert, as if anticipating danger at any moment. Jack could see the bruises on his neck and blood staining the sleeve of his jacket. Vaughn's eyes snapped to Jack as soon as the words left Jack's mouth. He grimaced slightly and shook his head.

"I take it that you didn't arrive entirely without incident."

Sydney smiled lightly, in attempt to quell his fear. "You know me, dad. I don't arrive anywhere without incident."

The way she said it, the casual way she tossed her hair as she did so, overwhelmed him with another wave of love for his daughter. He had missed her so much.

Vaughn's eyes flickered from Sydney to Jack, to the crowd beyond and finally to the bag slung over Sydney's shoulder. Jack could see the way his eyes hardened as they glimped this last object and he wondered at what they might have found.

"We need to move," Vaughn said quietly. He placed a hand on both of their shoulders, wincing in pain as he moved his injured arm. Sydney anticipated this movement and slid smoothly under that arm, one hand sliding around his waist. The familiar way they moved together, the way they anticipated each other's every movement, the way his eyes landed on hers in silent thanks, it was as if they had never been seperated. Instead of the contempt he had always felt for this man, Jack now felt a sense of gratitude, relief, that his daughter had found such a man to match her in every way. Together, the three of them moved quietly through the crowd, making their way back to Jack's car. Vaughn's arm was slung around Sydney's shoulder and she had one arm looped around his waist, as if supporting him with her own weight. Her free hand clasped Jack's firmly and he marveled at how small her hand seemed in his. Like a child, clutching her father for safety. He tried to remember if he had ever held her hand this way after her mother had died, he had years of neglect to make up for.

Vaughn opened the door for Sydney, sliding the bag from her shoulder and dumping it on the seat. She smiled up at him and time seemed to slow as Jack watched her hand come up to touch his face gently. He touched her face in return, holding a silent conversation with their eyes and she blinked, time snapping back into place, her eyes fell once more on Jack. There seemed to be too much to say so she said nothing at all, pulling gently away from Vaughn and sliding into the backseat of the car. Vaughn shut the door and looked up at Jack, nodding slightly, a small smile playing across his lips. Jack reached out to clasp Vaughn's shoulder and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Thank you," he whispered, his words lost on the wind. Vaughn nodded and Jack could see him blink back tears, a motion he had become accustomed to. Without any words, Vaughn circled around to the other side of the car and got into the backseat with Sydney. Jack took a deep breath, struggling to return his heart to its normal heart rate and got in the car.

They drove for a few minutes in silence, speeding away from the harbor. Jack adjusted his mirror to look back at the two young people in his back seat. Sydney was leaning against Vaughn heavily, her head resting on his shoulder in exhaustion. He had his head bowed to hers, forehead resting on the top of her head. He was murmuring soft words into her hair that Sydney did not respond to, but her fingers were laced through his, drawing on his strength. Her eyes flickered up to the mirror and met Jack's eyes there. Her eyes were filled with tears and Jack smiled at her.

"What happened on the boat?" The words were spoken quietly into the stillness. Vaughn turned his head to look up at Jack, and then back to Sydney, speaking once more without words. She nodded slightly at him and she looked up at Jack.

"A woman named Lauren Reed was tracking us. She is an assasin for the Covenant, much like I was for the past month."

"The Covenant?" Jack's mouth twisted in disgust. "They were behind your disappearance?"

"Yes, they faked my death, burned my home, stole my life, my identity." The bitterness in her voice stabbed his heart, if only he had paid more attention to the Covenant, followed the clues more carefully. Vaughn smoothed a comforting hand across her hair and she squeezed his hand in thanks. 

"They tried to brainwash me, mold me into a woman named Julia Thorne."

Jack sighed and shook his head, "They couldn't brainwash you." He muttered.

Sydney shook her head, "They didn't. They tried to break me for months but in the end, I pretended that I had broken. I became Julia Thorne to escape them." She shuddered with the memories of what she had done to prove herself. 

"Project Christmas," Jack muttered with slow realization dawning on him. He had done it to protect her and in the end, he had no regrets. He could have lost his daughter for good had it not been for her training.

"What about it?" Sydney asked. Jack met her questioning eyes in the mirror. 

"Your training during Project Christmas contained a failsafe to protect your mind from any form of torture or brainwashing. I knew that as your mother's daughter, you were at risk from KGB operatives who might want the daughter of Irina Derevko to work for them. I would have died before I let that happen."

Sydney was silent for a long moment, eyes lowered as she recalled her anger at her father when she had discovered what he had done to her. In the end it had saved her life, her identity. He had been protecting her even when he thought she was lost.

"Thank you," she whispered. "If I had never undergone that training, I would be Julia Thorne right now. I would have broken long ago."

"You don't need to thank me, sweetheart. I would have done anything to protect you." Sydney smiled at the reflection of his eyes as they flickered back to her. Despite everything that had happened between them, she knew that her father loved her. 

"Michael," Vaughn's eyes snapped to Jack's at the sound of his name. "How did you find her?" 

Vaughn shook his head, "I didn't. She found me."

Jack frowned and his eyes slid back to Sydney, there was something hidden there, tangled between the two of them. Some dark secret that they were reluctant to share just yet. 

"The Covenant sent me to France to retrieve a Rambaldi artifact," Sydney explained. There was a note of hesitation in her voice and her eyes slid to the bag on the seat beside her. "A painting that had been hidden for thirty years, a key piece in the Rambaldi puzzle." There was pain in Vaughn's eyes as she spoke and she brushed her lips against his cheek, nuzzling his face softly in comfort. Jack wondered again at the unfolding mystery before him.

"The Covenant had recently received intel informing them that this painting was hidden in a house on the beach of Normandy. The house was supposed to be empty, they sent me. But the house wasn't empty. Vaughn was there."

Jack frowned in confusion, the pieces were tangled and he could not see how they fit together quite yet. Vaughn spoke quietly, a deep pain hidden in his voice.

"It was my house, my father had left it to me in his will. The painting was hidden in a safe in the bedroom, I never knew that it was there."

Slowly, the pieces began to fall into place. Jack did not like the picture he was forming. "Why was a Rambaldi artifact hidden in your home?"

Vaughn and Sydney exchanged a long look, filled with deeper meaning and an undercurrent of fear. Jack's heart rose up in his throat, choking his breath.

"That is the mystery," Sydney said softly. "It's better if we show you rather than tell you, once we get to the safehouse."

Jack nodded slowly, his mind whirling with the information he had just been given. "We should be there in an hour or so, rest while you can." He smiled gently at his daughter. "I'm here now, sweetheart," his voice broke on the last words and he whispered softly. "Daddy's here."

Sydney smiled through her tears and slumped back against Vaughn again, falling into him for comfort. He wrapped his arms around her, not even flinching at the pain his shoulder caused him though he could feel the bandage ripping, the blood seeping out. It didn't matter. Pressing his lips to her hair, he closed his eyes in relief. 

Jack continued to speed down the empty back roads. A terrible weight had been lifted from his heart, but he felt another descending on his shoulders. A grim portent of something to come, that even he could not predict.

The world rushed by beyond the window. 

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Lauren pulled herself up onto the dock, eyes darting around for anyone who might be watching. She had sunk the tiny boat along with the body of its captain a mile out and swum the rest of the way to shore. There was no one left in the harbor save for a few milling passengers, waiting in the cold rain for their loved ones to come and take them home. No one saw her as she slipped into the shadows of the large boats, docked in the harbor. The grey clouds hung thick over the water, engulfing her in a fog that blinded her. She hated this feeling of helplessness, of failure. They had escaped her, but not for long.

Reaching into her wetsuit, she pulled out a small device, a red light blinking steadily on the screen. She silently issued thanks to the Covenant tech man who had devised this tracking device and made it waterproof. It had been strapped to her flesh, beneath the lace of her bra, the entire exhausting trip from the ferry to the harbor. But she had what she wanted, the tracking device she had slapped onto Michael Vaughn's neck was active and they had not discovered it. 

Her eyes lit up and a smile of triumph crossed her face as she analyzed the coordinates on the screen. They were moving fast but she would catch them faster. They had been running for days and would be weary by now. She would spring upon them when they least expected it, when they thought they were safe. 

Now, all she needed was a mode of transportation. Glancing down at her attire, she wrinkled her nose in disgust, make that transportation and clothing. Glancing around the empty dock, she saw only one person remaining. A woman, about her height, was getting into a car on the other end. She smiled. Sometimes her work was just too easy.

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They arrived at the safehouse in under an hour, Jack certainly breaking the speed limit the entire way but Sydney was grateful. She longed to be able to relax, Vaughn at her side and her father taking care of them. She knew that she wouldn't get that chance for quite some time yet. There was still a chance that Lauren was after them and if she was not, the Covenant would certainly be sending more agents after her. They would not stop until she was recovered, or killed. 

The house was nondescript, hidden in a corner of the forest, surrounded by towering oak trees. Vaughn's arm was around her once more as they slid out of the car. He hooked the bag over his bad shoulder, wincing at the pain but ignoring it with all of his will. Sydney was not sure anymore if she was supporting him or if it was the other way around. They switched roles of protector so easily that the lines had long ago been blurred. They were constantly supporting one another, each standing as a pillar of strength for the other.

Jack slid a keycard in the door and spoke quietly. They waited a moment for the voice recognition scan to go through and the door clicked open. They hurried inside out of the rain, the door locking behind them.

The three of them moved to the kitchen, shaking water out of their clothes. Vaughn dropped the bag on the table and collapsed heavily into a char beside Sydney, his arm resting on the back of her chair. Sydney's eyes were fixed on him, his eyes were fixed on the bag. Jack watched them both quietly as he began to boil some water for coffee. For a moment, it seemed like they were normal people, coming home after a hard day's work, out of the rain to share a cup of coffee and stories of their day. 

Jack let the two of them sit quietly for a few minutes, giving them time to relax and let the fear slip from their minds. They had to be alert and ready for anything and in this state, he feared for them. When the coffee was done, he poured them each a cup and set it down in front of them. Sydney wrapped her hands around the mug, the steam rising in waves from the surface and she smiled at him in gratitude. Vaughn did not move, still focused on the bag. Sydney glanced at him, concern in her eyes and whispered softly. "Ready?"

Vaughn leaned back and met her eyes, tension seeping from him at the soft sound of her voice. He nodded, scrubbing his face with his hands. "As I'll ever be."

Jack watched them with mounting curiousity, Sydney turned to look at him and slowly opened the bag. She removed a black box, the wood was corroding from what appeared to be water stains and it was very old. Carved on the top was the symbol of Rambaldi, that Jack had long ago become accustomed to recognizing. All the same, the sight of the symbol sent a shiver racing down his spine. This made all of them very uneasy. 

"This painting was hidden thirty years ago in a safe in France, by William Vaughn." Sydney told him. Jack's eyebrows raised in alarm as the plot thickened. Sydney saw the expression on her face and nodded. "We asked ourselves that same question. Why would William Vaughn hide such an important artifact from the CIA? An artifact that cost him his life?" Sydney sighed and opened the box.

Jack retrieved his glasses from his pocket and watched carefully as Sydney unrolled a thin piece of parchment. She lay it in front of him, avoiding looking at it as much as she could. Jack stared in astonishment at the prophecy.

The silence was thick in the room. Vaughn dropped his head into his hands, refusing to look up at Jack. This was the moment of truth and he couldn't bear to hear his doom. Jack analyzed every detail of the drawing, the words sprawled acrosss the face on the paper. He could not read them, he had never been as deeply involved in the hunt for Rambaldi artifacts as Sloane and had never bothered to learn the ancient Latin dialect the prophecies were written in. But he had seen enough Rambald artifacts to recognize that this was genuine.

"This prophecy was hidden beneath the painting," Sydney told him, her words were gentle and her hand stroked the back of Vaughn's neck soothingly. "The painting was that of the sky behind Mt. Subasio. The title of the painting is written on the back, it is called 'My Sky Behind Mt. Subasio.'"

Jack looked up at her words, realization dawning on him as the full impact of this prophecy hit. They had read so much into that prophecy about Sydney, but it had been all wrong. He had never fully believed in the prophecy about his daughter, but this paper in front of him killed his doubts. It could not be a coincidence that the man her daughter loved was also prophesied.

"We believe that my father was trying to protect me," Vaughn spoke for the first time, pulling his head out of his hands. There was a steely look in his eyes that took Jack by surprise, a look of contained rage and betrayal. "My father was a smart man, he would have recognized that the man in that picture was not him, but his son. But we have no way of knowing what any of it means, until we know what it says."

Jack shook his head and leaned back. The puzzle pieces had fallen into place now but there were still large gaps in the picture it formed. "I can't read it, I don't know this dialect." Vaughn sighed softly and raked his fingers through his damp hair, the black strands stuck up in random points. 

"There are a select number of individuals who have studied Rambaldi long enough to learn the language and how to decipher the prophecies. The DSR, who translated the prophecy about you, Sydney. Clearly, the members of the Covenant can read it or else they would not have wanted it. Sloane is another, obviously, who can read it." Jack grimaced at the mention of the man's name. "And the last is the only person who we might be able to trust at this juncture. Someone I never thought I would trust again but who has proved invaluable to me in these last few months when I was searching for clues to your death." 

Jack looked up to meet Sydney's eyes, there was desperation there. She had to know what it meant, she was frightened for Vaughn's life, that much was obvious. "We have to take our chances, if you know someone who can decipher this, we have to find them. We can't trust the CIA at this point, not with this information. You saw how the DSR tried to cage me when they found the prophecy about me, I won't let them do that to him."

Jack nodded slowly, biting his lip. Neither of them were going to like what he was going to say next, but it was the only choice they had left. "Then that leaves only one person we can turn to." He met Sydney's eyes, without flinching as he spoke. 

"Your mother."

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	11. Decisions

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Chapter Eleven:

Decisions

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The silence hung in the room like a cloud, drifting lazily around the three people seated at the table. Jack waited with baited breath for one of them to speak, but neither did. The moment stretched on into nothingness, Sydney simply stared at him, eyes wide with shock. Vaughn sat utterly still, his eyes fixed on the portrait before him. It was as if he had not heard a word of their conversation, but the way his muscles were tensed proved otherwise. He exuded an air of calm but inside, he was coiled like a wire ready to spring, a spark prepared to flare into a flame. Slowly, Sydney's eyes shifted to him and as if he could feel her gaze on him, he looked up at her. There was a deep weariness there and Sydney felt her heart ache at the sight. She wished that she could protect him from this, but it was beyond her control. 

"Vaughn? This is up to you now. We could go back to L.A in the morning if you wanted, turn it over to the DSR."

"And pretend like nothing has happened?" His voice was filled with bitterness that stung her sharply, though she knew it was not directed toward her. 

"Pretend like you haven't been gone for six months? Like there is no marker hanging on the wall that says, 'Sydney Bristow, killed in action'? Like we didn't just find a prophecy that would make me a prisoner of the same government I've dedicated my life to?" He took a deep breath and reached over to grasp her hand, drawing on her unwavering strength. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "No, Sydney. This is our only choice." He opened his eyes and looked back to Jack. When he spoke again, she could hear the same determination there that she had associated with Vaughn for years. 

"How do we find her?" He asked. 

Jack leaned back in his chair, palms flat on the tabletop on both sides of the prophecy. Tapping his fingers gently against the paper, he cleared his throat.

"I first made contact with Irina five months ago, to inform her of Sydney's death," He flinched at the word and glanced to his daughter apologetically. She shook her head slightly to indicate that it was okay, she had become accustomed to speaking of her own death openly. 

"I was also seeking her help, to discover if she had any information on who had been responsible for the fire. Since that time, we have been in steady communication through an untraceable computer I have in my posession." Jack turned to retrieve the black bag beside him and withdrew a small laptop computer. He placed it on the table beside the prophecy. "I can contact her now if you wish."

Vaughn nodded, pushing away from the table and standing. His hand slipped from Sydney's grasp and she sat motionless. Her eyes flickered from the computer, to the prophecy, to the two men she loved most in the world. She could not bear to lose them again. 

"How do we know that we can trust her?" Sydney asked. Jack appeared uncomfortable with the question and shifted slightly in his seat. Sydney raised her eyebrows. "Dad?"

Vaughn spoke instead, his eyes on the floor. "If your father trusts her, after all that she's done to him, I will trust her as well." He shuddered at his own words, wrapping his arms around his damp chest. Sydney stood and pulled his arms away from his chest, replacing them with her own. They stood still for a moment, her head tucked under his chin as he smoothed his hands over her back. She knew how hard this was for him, she had gone through so much of it herself in the past. 

Jack spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the moment. "One thing I have learned about Irina Derevko is that, despite everything, her love for her family is stronger than her loyalty, even to herself. I don't think even she realized that until she saw you three years ago. When the three of us were together again, she realized how much she truly wanted a family. She loves you, Sydney, and she will do anything for you. It is only now that I realize, how many of her actions were done to protect you." Jack looked up at her with veiled eyes, secrets there which Sydney had not seen before. She swallowed the questions that threatened to spill from her lips and shook her head. 

"But will she help Vaughn?" She asked softly. Jack looked at Vaughn who stood with eyes closed, arms still wrapped around Sydney, face buried in her hair. 

"She will have to." He said simply. That wasn't good enough for Sydney.

"Why?"

Jack's eyes slid from her to Vaughn and back again. "Because he loves you too. She won't do anything to compromise your happiness. In her heart, Irina truly is your mother and despite her actions to the contrary, she wants what is best for you." Jack shook his head and Sydney wondered at what words her parents had exchanged since she last saw them. It seemed not so long ago that Jack had been fully committed to doing anything he could to see Irina Derevko dead, and now he spoke of her with a deeper tone in his voice, something like love.

"You two should get some rest," he told them. He stood up and placed the prophecy back into the box. "I'll contact Irina and arrange a meet. We can leave in the morning, until then we will be safe." He crossed around to their side of the table and Sydney broke free of Vaughn's arms, falling into Jack's.

"Thank you, Daddy." She whispered. 

"Anything for you, sweetheart, anything." He held her tightly before releasing her back to Vaughn. Jack stroked his daughter's hair gently. "We can talk more later, right now all that is important is that you rest." He traced the circles under her eyes gently and smiled. "You both look like you need it." Sydney shook her head and clasped the hand cupping her face with her own. 

"I love you, Dad."

Jack felt the familiar burning in his eyes and blinked rapidly, clearing his throat softly. "I love you too, baby."

Turning away from him, Sydney slipped her arm around Vaughn's waist. Vaughn glanced back at Jack as the two of them strode quietly from the kitchen. The two of them shared one of those silent conversations with their eyes that Jack had thought was reserved specifically for his daughter. Vaughn's eyes were filled with gratitude and relief, as well as a deep seated fear. Jack was sure that his eyes showed the same.

He stood alone in the kitchen, listening to the sound of their footsteps on the stairs. After a long moment, he sat back down at the table and opened the computer.

Irina was waiting.

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Lauren stood in the pouring rain, cursing at the car on the side of the road. Of all the cars, she had to steal the one that broke down twenty minutes away from the harbor. Sighing in frustration, she angrily pushed wet hair out of her eyes and gave up on trying to start it again. She was losing precious time, she had to find a phone and make contact with the Covenant. She groaned at that prospect, she would certainly receive an earful from Cole when he learned that she had not yet obtained Vaughn and Bristow. She could practically hear his smug voice in her head, mocking her abilities. She slammed her fist on the hood of the car, water bouncing around her hand as she did so. She would not be known as a failure. Who knows what the Covenant would do to her if she returned empty handed. What her father would do to her. She shuddered at the thought, a cold chill of fear running down her spine like the cold rain that washed over her. 

Muttering curses under her breath, she pulled the tracking device out of her pocket and consulted the coordinates. She was still a good ten miles from her destination, but it seemed that Vaughn had stopped running. His signal had been consistent for the last half hour, she considered this a good sign. Hopefully, wherever he was, he would stay there until morning and she would have plenty of time to catch up with him.

Kicking the car one last time, she turned away from it and headed down the empty road. She gritted her teeth as the rain soaked her to the bone and wrapped her arms around herself in attempt to stay warm. She would make Sydney Bristow pay for this.

__

They discarded the layers of clothing as they entered the large bathroom together. Bloody sweater and damp dress collided in a heap on the floor, wordlessly they stepped into the bathroom together. Vaughn turned on the hot water and turned to Sydney as she ran her fingers through her dark hair. Catching the hand in mid motion, he pulled it free and kissed the palm of her hand gently. She smiled at his gesture and slid her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her, gently undoing the clasp of her bra and sliding each individual strap down her shoulders until it fell away from her breast. He kissed the red marks the straps had left on her skin, pleased by the way she shivered under his lips. 

They stepped into the shower together, the steam billowing around them as they did so. Sydney turned her back to him and lathered a cloth with soap, gently smoothing it across her skin. She leaned her head back and he kissed her neck softly, washing away the imprint of his lips with the cloth in his hand. A small sound escaped her lips, like a cat purring, and he smiled.

"Vaughn," she murmured into the dull roar of the water and he pressed closer to her, rubbing the cloth across the scars on her stomach gently.

"Yes," his response was muffled by his lips against the skin of her collarbone. A smile twisted her lips slightly and she turned in his embrace. The washcloth fell, forgotten, to the floor.

"Are you sure about this?" Sydney asked. Vaughn raised his eyebrows in amusement, glancing down at her naked form curiously. 

"About what?" He asked, laughter in his voice. She gently smacked his chest as she interpreted the meaning of his words. 

"Not that, silly." She laughed softly, the sound was music to his ears. But she quickly regained seriousness. 

"I mean, about going to see my mother. All of this has been so hard on you already and seeing her won't make it any easier."

Vaughn slid his hands up to her shoulderblades and hugged her close to him, the water cascading down onto their joined flesh. He closed his eyes and saw Irina Derevko in his mind. For so many childhood years, he had envisioned his father's killer as a monster. He had never thought that the monster of his childhood nightmares would have the eyes of the woman he loved. Those beautiful deep dark eyes that he leaned back now to look into. Sydney's eyes, Irina's eyes. He had never imagined that the hands that had killed his father would be so almost identical to the hands that currently traced a path along the curve of his spine with a loving touch. He had never imagined that the woman who had taken his father from him would give him the greatest gift he could ever ask for.

"I see her all the time," Vaughn whispered. "I see her in you." Sydney stiffened in his arms and averted his eyes from his. Shaking his head, Vaughn cupped her cheek and forced her gaze back to his. "But you are not her, Sydney. As much as I have hated her in the past, that hatred is overwhelmed only by my love of you. She gave you life and however strongly I may have resented her for taking my father's life, I will always be eternally grateful to her for giving me you in return." Her eyes softened at his words and tears glistened in the corners of each one. He brought her face to him and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips.

"Besides," he whispered when he pulled away. "My father held a few secrets of his own, as we now know. He was keeping that painting away from your mother and I want to know why."

"Maybe the fact that your father broke the rules, hid that painting, should teach us not to trust her. She was willing to kill for it then, how do we know she won't kill us now?" Sydney's eyes were filled with concern.

"A lot has changed in thirty years, Sydney. This prophecy, whatever it is, its about us in some way and our parents went to extreme lengths to discover the truth behind it all. I think its up to us now. I don't think even your mother would kill two people foretold in the prophecies. She has searched too long for the truth and now we are bringing her an important piece of the puzzle. I admit, it does make me nervous, but I would prefer a quick death at the hands of Irina Derevko than the cage that the DSR will put us in, or the torture the Covenant would inflict on us. Or Sloane." Vaughn shuddered. "I don't even have to tell you what I would rather endure compared to Arvin Sloane." Sydney chuckled at his words and nodded.

"I never thought I would hear my father speak about Irina Derevko the way he did just now. It was like he wasn't speaking about a traitor to him and his country, but his wife. As if he's forgiven her for what she's done." Sydney shook her head. "I never thought he could forgive her."

"I think your dad still loves her," Vaughn said softly. Sydney picked up the washcloth he had abandoned and started to work it over his chest. She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.

"I think so, too. He can't help himself. I saw it when I was Kashmir, the way they looked at each other." Sydney shook her head and smiled at the memory. "We were a family then, a very dysfunctional family," she laughed. "But a family nonetheless." She sobered and slid the cloth against his hip. Looking up at him, she smiled, one of those huge smiles where the dimples came out in full force and stole his breath.

"Promise me," she whispered, pressing herself to him. "That our family will be at least, _remotely_ functional?"

Vaughn laughed but a wave of love swept over him, in his mind he could see visions of young dark haired children with green eyes climbing all over them. Sydney, swollen with child, aglow with the light of motherhood. His heart beat faster, his breath halting altogether at the thought. He met her eyes and kissed her with joy.

"I promise," he murmured against her lips. Sydney laughed and his heart swelled with joy, all fear and pain was gone in that moment as they imagined their lives together. Their life as it could be, once it was all over. 

Sydney rested her head gently against his chest as he poured some shampoo into his hand, gently rubbing it through her hair. She sighed softly, a sound of contentment as his fingers stroked her scalp. Lifting her head to nuzzle his neck, she froze suddenly. Her body went stiff in his arms and he frowned.

"What's wrong?" He murmured, looking down at her. Her eyes were wide with fear as she slid one hand up his bare chest, wrapping it around his neck. His eyebrows narrowed in concern at the horrified expression on her face. The fear rushed back into his heart suddenly, all joy evaporating as she gazed into his eyes. Slowly, she pulled her hand away from his skin and held her palm up to him. Looking down, his heart seemed to halt for a moment at what he saw.

In the palm of her hand was a tiny patch of what appeared to be flesh, it was translucent and light save for the dark microchip in the center. He had never even felt it on his skin. 

Vaughn looked back into her eyes, fear clawing his heart desperately. They did not need to speak, no need to confirm what it was she had found, they both recognized it clearly enough. The bitch had tagged him before she had left and they were both certain that they had not seen the last of Lauren Reed. 

"We have to get out of here," Sydney breathed. She quickly rinsed her hair and shut the water off, sliding the door open so swiftly that it banged against the wall. Vaughn followed her, the water dripping from his flesh the only sound in the sudden deathly quiet. Sydney wrapped a towel around her waist and flung the door open, the chip still clutched tightly in her hand.

"Dad!" She rushed down the steps, Vaughn a few paces after her, throwing a towel around his waist as he moved. He slid into the kitchen on wet feet, a few steps behind her as she dumped the chip onto the table in front of a surprised Jack.

"Lauren has been tracking us, we need to get out of here now!"

Jack shot to his feet, closing the computer with a snap. Hastily, he gathered the items on the table into the bag and slipped back into agent mode.

"Get dressed," he ordered them. "There's no telling how far she might be. We'll leave the tracker here and by the time she gets here, we'll be long gone."

Sydney nodded, spinning on one foot to rush from the kitchen. It was then that the three of them heard the noise outside, the telltale rustle of another person brushing past the bushes. Each froze in mid-motion, three pairs of eyes turning to the front door as the knob began to turn.

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	12. Breaking Point

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Chapter Twelve: 

Breaking Point

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It was Vaughn who snapped into action first, he spun on his heel, grabbing Sydney's hand and pulling her out of the room. The two of them rushed up the steps to the bedroom as Jack ran to the door, punching in codes hurriedly that would keep the door closed. 

Sydney followed Vaughn to the bedroom, her heart in her throat. Shedding the towel from around his waist, he hurriedly pulled on the dry clothes waiting for them on the bed. Throwing Sydney's clothes to her, she did the same, her senses alert for any sound from below. She didn't like leaving her father alone down there but she was not going to be of much help to him, stark naked and weaponless. 

Sydney slid her gun into the holster at her side and looked up to Vaughn. He was standing at the window, peering out cautiously. Pulling her damp hair back in a hasty ponytail, she joined him. 

"Do you see anything?" She whispered. Vaughn shook his head and let the curtain fall shut. He looked at her, she was tense with anticipation, fingers gripping his sleeve tightly. Holding one finger to his lips, he pried her hand away from his shirt and led her to the door. They moved silently down the steps, guns in hand, alert for danger. 

The front door stood ajar, Jack was nowhere in sight. Sydney swallowed hard, glancing at Vaughn fearfully. He looked down at her, one hand finding hers as they moved quietly down the hallway. Vaughn paused before the living room, his back flat against the wall, gun steady in his hands. He glanced at Sydney and nodded slightly, the light fluttered in the hallway, shadows passing over the source. Holding her body perfectly still, Sydney quieted her mind and allowed her senses to come to attention. She could hear a faint rasp of fabric and heavy breathing. There was someone in there and they were not alone. Looking up into Vaughn's eyes, Sydney nodded in return and raised her gun. Stepping past him, she entered the room, her gun automatically trained on the two figures seated within.

Her mouth fell in shock and then closed again, jaw clenched in anger. Her grip on her gun tightened imperceptibly at the sight of the man who sat before her, his gun trained on her father's head. He smiled at her almost warmly, but his eyes were like chips of ice. Jack's head was lowered, there was blood from a fresh wound streaking his forehead. She couldn't tell whether or not he was still conscious. 

"Oleg," she breathed in shock. She narrowed her eyes as he smiled at her, the same cruel smile she had seen through a blur of tears and blood during months of torture. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" She demanded. The smirk was fixed on his face as he gazed at her steadily. His eyes roamed her body and she suppressed a shudder of disgust. 

"Julia," he spoke almost lovingly, she tensed at the use of her alias. "I couldn't believe them when they told me that you had defected." The smile vanished from his face and all warmth seeped from his voice. "I came to correct a mistake."

Sydney glared at him, using all of her strength to resist killing him on the spot. He was too close to Jack, using him as a human shield against her. "There is no mistake, Oleg," her voice was like ice. "How did you find me?"

He chuckled emotionlessly, "I cared deeply for you, Julia. I never wanted anything happen to you, you were my favorite. I injected a transmittor under your skin months ago, in case you were ever captured." His face twisted with barely contained rage suddenly. "I never suspected that I would need it in a case like this. You were my crowning achievement, my best work. You were the height of my career." 

Sydney scowled at him, "I was nothing to you." She spit the words, venom in her tone. "I was only an experiment."

"Julia…"

Sydney stepped closer to him, rage blinding her. "Don't call me that!" She screamed at him, the hand holding the gun outstretched was shaking. "My name is Sydney Bristow, you ugly bastard! It always has been, you never broke me! I fooled you better than anyone else because you didn't want to believe the truth."

Oleg sighed and shook his head, "There were so many signs. I should have known." His hand tensed on the trigger of the gun and he smiled that cold, cruel smile again. "But that doesn't matter anymore. There are Covenant agents searching for you, they will be here soon enough. I simply had to see for myself." He appeared almost wistful for a moment as he looked at her.

"You have no idea how much pleasure breaking you gave me. You always had such spirit, Sydney but I knew that slowly, that spirit would begin to crumble. Your moans of pain, the way your flesh opened so easily beneath my knife. The way you cried out in the worst moments of pain for your lost lover who never saved you, they gave me a pleasure I have not known in years. I would listen to you speak to him in the darkness, when you thought I could not hear. Such tender words for a man who never bothered to come looking for you. If only he had heard the way you moaned like a whore when our men took their turns with you." He smiled with genuine pleasure at the memory and Sydney froze. The dark memories of her torture that she had kept locked inside a box in her mind threatened to escape, to overcome her. She knew that was exactly what he wanted. "You called his name often then as well but he never saved you from the violation. You would struggle against the chains at first but inevitably, you gave up fighting them. Cole was especially pleased to find you were no longer resisting when he took his turn, I think I may have received a raise from just that experience. Often I had to wonder who took more pleasure in your torture, myself or Cole." He looked from her to Jack and his eyes narrowed. Sydney could not move, could barely breathe, could barely even hear the words he was speaking. She found herself transported back into the moment when she'd woken in her cell, blood staining her thighs. She had hidden it all from herself but now it was surging back to the surface.

"I should have realized that the only way to keep your old life away was by killing it. There is no better place to start, I believe, than with your father. After him, perhaps I should find the man you called out for so often during your isolation and torture?" His smile grew wider, even more wicked. "What was his name? Vaughn, I believe it was?" She was suddenly painfully aware of Vaughn's presence in the hall behind her. He was waiting for a sign from her to enter the room, she could not dare to give it now. Silently, she urged him to run, but knew that he would do no such thing. Oleg's smile mocked her as her eyes fell on her father in despair. His finger was poised on the trigger and very slowly, he began to pull.

Sydney leapt into action, jumping the remaining distance between him, screaming with rage. Time slowed for a brief second as he pulled the trigger, the sound of the gun deafened her. She recoiled from the noise and a raw scream escaped her throat. In the split second of time that it took Oleg to pull the trigger, Jack whirled suddenly out of his grip, knocking the gun aside as the bullet shot free from the chamber, narrowly skimming his skin. Jack cried out as the impact knocked him down. 

From behind her, Vaughn darted into the room, pushing her back with his free hand. His gun was secured in his holster, but the look of wild rage in his eyes scared even her. He launched himself onto Oleg, punching the older man hard in the face. He was screaming at him, Sydney could barely discern the words but she had a feeling she knew what was being said. Time snapped back into place and Sydney shook a wave of dizziness off. She looked around the room with clear eyes, her father was slumped on the floor, one hand held to his bleeding head. His eyes were fixed on her, questioning. She shook her head at him and turned to Vaughn.

Vaughn was straddling Oleg, his face contorted in grief and rage. He had heard every word that Oleg had said, seen the scars marking her skin. The guilt and anger had finally overwhelmed him, he was still striking the now unconscious Oleg with balled fists. His knuckles gleamed with wet blood, it was smeared on his face. 

"Bastard! I'll make you pay for what you've done to her! Why did it have to be her? You sick perverted bastard!" His words were streaming together in a virtually nonsensical stream of rage. Sydney crossed the room slowly, touching Vaughn's shoulder with a loving hand. He stilled under her palms and his fists dropped to his side. Rolling off of Oleg, he pulled himself into a ball beside the bloody man. He was shaking violently, his eyes still fixed on the man beside him. Sydney wrapped her arms around him, kneeling beside him to hug him from behind. A broken sob escaped his throat and he turned, wrapping his arms around her, blood staining her clothes. She rocked him gently, tears slipping out from beneath closed lids. She wanted to block out what he had said, wanted to take it from Vaughn's memory but she could not. 

"It's okay," she murmured softly against his skin and his trembling ceased. Regaining his composure, he looked up at her, the rage gone from his eyes, replaced instead by grief. 

"I'm so sorry, I couldn't save you from him," he whispered. Sydney shook her head and swallowed the lump in her throat. 

"It's not your fault," she whispered in response. "It's over now. I'm okay."

Vaughn nodded and she was struck by how childlike he appeared suddenly, so innocent and afraid. The illusion quickly vanished as his eyes cleared once more and he stood, determination and courage in his posture once more. She took his hand, disregarding the blood that was drying on his skin and kissed his cheek softly. 

"Are you alright, Jack?" Vaughn asked as he looked over to the older Bristow. Jack nodded, already back on his feet. 

"Yeah, it just grazed me. I'll be fine. That could have been a lot worse."

"Lucky for us, Oleg is not an agent of the Covenant, merely one of their tools." Sydney's face was troubled as she glanced down at the man on the floor. She could barely recognize him now, his face was bloody and disfigured from Vaughn's beating. She thought that she could see a bone protruding from the broken flesh and swallowed a wave of nausea. 

"He came here on his own to see me," she cursed under her breath suddenly. "I should have assumed that he would have planted a tracking device on me." She looked up at Vaughn. "We have to remove it before we go any further. It will do us no good to throw Lauren off by removing your chip and then have the rest of the Covenant swarming in on us because of mine."

Vaughn studied her eyes carefully for a long moment, he knew what she was asking him to do but he did not like it. He nodded wordlessly and turned away, Sydney watched him leave the room silently, listening to his footsteps on the stairs. She turned to look at her father before following him.

"Have you contacted mom?"

Jack nodded, gathering his thoughts. "Yes, we have arranged to meet tomorrow evening in Dublin. Everything is ready, we just need to leave as soon as possible." Jack's eyes hardened as he glanced down at Oleg. "Sydney, we must be extremely cautious from now on. Vaughn and I have both been far too sloppy in our relief to have you back with us. I should have thought to check for transmittors on the both of you before we even left the harbor. Now you have an agent tailing you and we don't know whom Oleg may have informed about your whereabouts. We can afford no more mistakes."

Sydney nodded in agreement, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. "You're right. We must take more precautions." She shook her head, "But I've seen how the Covenant works. They are disorganized and sloppy but when it comes to me, they've shown more strength than I ever thought them capable of. They're desperate to get me back."

"We won't let that happen," Jack assured her, he placed one hand on her shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. Sydney looked up at him smiled, clasping his hand with her own. Her smile vanished as she glanced down at Oleg, her face twisting in disgust.

"If he wakes up, let me know. I have a few questions for him." With that said, she squeezed her father's hand one more time and left the room.

__

Vaughn stared at his reflection in the mirror, he had washed the blood from his hands and face but he could still feel it staining his skin. The warm slick taint of it, the bitterly sweet smell that clogged his nostrils. He had lost control downstairs and he knew it, but hearing what that bastard had said to her had been too much for him. Knowing that the man who had been responsible for those scars on her flesh was standing less than five feet away from him, mocking her. He had been blinded with rage.

He looked up as Sydney entered the bathroom, she smiled at him gently and he could not help but smile back. No matter how many shadows plagued his soul or darkened his thoughts, she was the flame that kept everything alight. 

She placed one hand gently on his back as she crossed over to stand next to him. Her hand moved in small circles, a comforting motion that eased his tense muscles instantly. He dropped his head and looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"I lost control down there," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

She was shaking her head before the words had even left his mouth. "Don't apologize, he deserved everything you did to him and more." She locked the memories back into the box where they belonged. Concentrating on the task at hand, she held up a small scalpel and handed it to him. "We don't have time for unecessary guilt or regret, Vaughn. We need to leave and fast."

He took the knife from her, hesitantly, uncertainty was evident in his eyes. She shook her head, dispelling the questions that sprung to his lips. He swallowed his fear and asked instead, "Where do you think it might be?"

Sydney's eyes darkened and she removed her shirt, grasping Vaughn's hand she traced his fingers across her chest to the scar that marred the skin of her breast. His fingers slid smoothly over the flesh, pausing as he felt a small lump just above her nipple. He swallowed hard, the hatred for the man who had done this to her resurging strongly. He did not regret a single thing he had done to him.

Sydney closed her eyes and Vaughn took a deep breath, steadying his trembling hands. She inhaled sharply as the blade bit into her exposed flesh and Vaughn swallowed hard at the blood that welled up from the cut. Pushing gently on her breast, he squeezed the chip out of her flesh and threw it into the sink with disgust. He removed a band-aid from the first aid kit on the counter and applied it tenderly to the cut. Leaning down, he kissed her breast gently where the wound was and looked up at her. She was staring down at him with wide eyes, glazed with unshed tears. He kissed her lips softly and held her close to him, seeking to soothe the pain that had risen once more in her heart.

"I love you," he whispered against her skin. She did not respond with words, only hugged him tighter to her. A sigh whispered across his skin and she pulled back slightly. 

"We have to leave," she told him. He nodded, stroking her face gently before bending down to retrieve her shirt from the bathroom floor. The silence echoed off the empty walls as he watched her. His mind was filled with torturous images of her chained to a table, men raping her over and over again as she cried out for him. It was too much to bear. As if sensing his thoughts, Sydney touched his face gently and shook her head. There were no more words needed between them as she took his hand and led him out of the bathroom.

They found Jack kneeling on the floor beside Oleg, one hand gripping his wrist. The bag containing the propechy and his computer lay beside him. Oleg was still, no breath escaping his lungs. Sydney looked to her father curiously as Jack shook his head.

"He's dead," he muttered as he stood away from the body. Sydney stared at her tormentor coldly before shaking her head. 

"Good," her words were cold and she pressed closer to Vaughn for warmth. "He was only wasting air anyway." Turning her eyes from the dead man on the floor, she looked to her father who was watching her closely. Picking the bag up from the floor, she slung it over her shoulder. "It's time to go." 

The two men exchanged silent glances, before following her from the house.

__

Lauren arrived at the safehouse as dawn was breaking over the horizon. The morning light left her feeling cold and vulnerable to the elements, she hated the feeling. 

She entered the house quietly, finding the door ajar as she did so. Her footsteps echoed in the silence of the house, narrowing her eyes she cursed under her breath. No one was here, they had slipped her grasp once more. 

She froze as she passed the living room, her eyes drifting back to what she had seen out of the corner of her eye. A body lay on the floor in a pool of blood, features virtually unrecognizable as she drew closer. With a frown, she knelt beside the body and searched his pockets for any form of identification.

In his wallet, she found a photograph of Sydney Bristow. Her hair was blonde and her expression cold, she was in her guise of Julia Thorne in the photo and Lauren felt her heart sink. It was Oleg, a man who had been her mentor when she had joined the Covenant. He had taught her some of the highest form of torture and brainwashing, lessons that had proved invaluable in her service to the Covenant. Now he was dead, another victim to Sydney Bristow.

She felt her heart harden, she remembered how much Oleg had loved Julia, a fact that she had resented the other woman for strongly. It had been Lauren who had informed Oleg of Sydney's defection, she had taken a certain pleasure in informing him that the woman who had replaced her in his affections was a traitor to their organization. Now he was dead. 

She stood, the wallet slipping from numb fingers. She turned her gaze to the photograph that fluttered to the ground, it landed in the pool of blood, crimson liquid seeping over the beautiful face of Sydney Bristow.

"Now it's personal for both of us, Sydney Bristow," she addressed the woman in the photo coldly. Swallowing hard, she turned and strode from the room.

Sitting at the kitchen table, she contemplated her options. The tracker which Sydney had removed from Vaughn lay on the table before her, mocking her thoughts. She had run out of options, she had failed thus far but there was still a chance that she could find him.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up the phone and dialed the number for Cole. At the sound of the click, she spoke before he even had a chance to question her. 

"I need to know where I can find Irina Derevko."

On the other end, Cole smiled in grim satisfaction.

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	13. Truth Takes Time

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Chapter Thirteen:

Truth Takes Time

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Sydney rested her weary head against the window as she watched the landscape of England pass by her in a green blur. The car was silent as they sped over the foggy landscape, the world around them disappearing into gray mist. It mirrored her soul, cloudy with fresh pain that she could not suppress so easily. Vaughn's head rested gently on her shoulder, he was dozing gently but his hands still rested on her thigh, stroking softly. He was constantly aware of her, struggling to ease her pain even in his sleep. She turned her head, leaning it against his gently, kissing his hair. He murmured something that sounded like her name and nuzzled closer to her. Tears burned her eyes; they had both gone through so much to be able to have this simple moment together. She looked up to look at Jack, his light eyes met her dark ones in the mirror and she smiled weakly. They would do anything to protect her and had already endured so much pain, their devotion to her was unwavering. 

"How is your head?" She asked softly, her words breaking the stillness. Jack shook his head and returned his eyes to the road.

"I think I'll survive," he said. His fingers clenched the steering wheel the same way they had gripped Oleg's neck. 

"Sydney, the things that bastard said about you," Jack trailed off, looking up to meet his daughter's eyes once more. Pain flickered there and his heart ached at the sight. She looked away, gazing back out into the peaceful oblivion of the mist. It soothed her aching soul with its soft haze. 

"It was all true," she whispered softly. "For so long, I have struggled to forget." Her voice caught in her throat. "I just want my life back."

The tears slipped free from Jack's eyes and he blinked them away, focusing on the road in front of him. "It will be over soon, baby. We'll show every one of those bastards that you don't mess with a Bristow and get away with it." He saw her smile a genuine smile; those dimples that he loved so much appearing like shadows in her cheeks. 

"What do you think the prophecy says about him?" Sydney asked softly, her eyes drifting down to Vaughn. Jack shook his head.

"I don't know, but we will have answers soon enough. Don't worry. Whatever it is, Vaughn is strong enough to overcome it."

Sydney smiled, stroking Vaughn's hair and nodded. "I can only hope so."

Jack watched her in the mirror, one eye on the road, he cleared his throat softly. "Your mother will be able to provide us with some answers when we see her." His heart clenched in his chest at the though of Irina Derevko and Sydney looked up when he heard the catch in his voice. Her dark eyes softened and she studied him quietly. 

"What happened between you and mom while I was gone?"

Jack had anticipated the question, expected it long before this. He was unsure of how to answer, but knew that he could not lie to her, would never lie to her again. He kept his eyes on the road, his voice neutral.

"When I contacted your mother the first time, it was on the computer true, but I wanted to tell her in person. We met in Ireland, at the same place we are heading now. We put aside the past, forgot our resentment and bitterness. I forgot my hatred of her and remembered why I loved her in the first place. She is still that good woman I married deep inside; we share a bond through you. There was no country then, no betrayal, only parents grieving the death of their only, most beloved child." 

Sydney gazed at him with sad eyes, "When I became Julia, for the first time, I understood some things about mom that I never could before." She shook her head and sighed softly. 

"You still love her." There was no question in her voice, merely a statement of fact that she had known for a long time. Jack had known it as well.

"Yes."

Sydney nodded, "I saw you two together when we were in Kashmir. When you went to see her when she was being held at the CIA, the way she looked at you. She still loves you too."

"Yes," it was a quiet confession on Jack's part. Sydney nodded and smiled softly, as confusing and twisted as their lives were, love was the only honesty that she knew. It kept her strong at moments like this.

"It will be good to see her again," Sydney admitted quietly. "I've missed her."

Jack smiled. For a moment, he could pretend they were a normal family. That he was a good father with a loving wife and a daughter who had never been forced to kill a man in cold blood. But he would not pretend anymore, their lives were not the ideal but at the moment, they were better than they had been for a long time.

They lapsed back into silence, Sydney resting her head against Vaughn, her eyes fluttering closed for a few moments's of rest. Jack continued driving, making his way through the misty world beyond.

__

"Given you the slip again, have they?" Lauren could hear the smirk in Cole's voice from the other end of the phone. She rolled her eyes but inwardly, seethed at her failure. 

"They killed Oleg." She informed him coldly, that caught his attention.

"What the hell was Oleg doing there?" He demanded.

"I don't know but I found his mangled body on the living room floor when I arrived. They were long gone and Irina Derevko is their only hope if they have the Rambaldi artifact and wish to remain alive. I know that we have agents inside her circle and I want to know where she is."

Cole sighed and Lauren could hear the sound of papers rustling on his desk. There was anger in his voice when he spoke again. "Contact Agent Sark, he is working with Derevko and has been in our pocket since we freed him from his glass CIA prison a few months ago. He should be able to help you and if you tell him that Sydney Bristow is on the way, he might just do your job for you. Don't fail me again, Lauren, or you will regret the day you joined us." He hung up on her with an abrupt click; Lauren stared at the phone with a burning anger. She would show him, she would show all of them. She was not tossed aside lightly.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed the button on the phone again and dialed the number for Julian Sark. 

__

The sun was setting low behind the hills of Ireland as Sydney, Vaughn and Jack arrived at the small building where they were designated to meet Irina. The land was cloaked with the fading white light, shadows stretching out into the hills. Sydney stood in front of the building, a feeling of apprehension in her chest as she watched her shadow lengthen on the ground before her. Another shadow approached hers from behind and she felt the warm arms of Vaughn slip around her waist as she stood beneath the setting sun. 

Sydney grasped his hand for support, shooting him a grateful look as he did so. Jack approached her silently, his hand sliding into her free one. She stood motionless, between the two men who loved her, her protectors. They were like sentinels in the twilight, daring anyone to cross their path in the attempt to harm her. She gripped each of their hands firmly in her own and with a deep breath, started into the building.

They entered a small room that contained a couch and a few comfortable chairs, a table and lamp for reading. Irina sat at the table, her back to them as she pored over a piece of paper before her with intensity. Sydney stood silently for a moment, watching her mother, studying the way her movements were so similar to her own. Irina became aware of them, her sixth sense tingling, alerting her to the presence of others in the room. 

Slowly, she looked up, her dark eyes landing first on Sydney and freezing there for a long time. Sydney was surprised to see tears gathered there, unshed. Irina stood slowly and crossed the room toward them.

"Sydney," her voice was full of love and Sydney's walls crumbled. She pulled away from Vaughn and Jack and embraced her mother tightly. She was like a little girl, returning to her mother's arms after so much pain and suffering. 

"Mom," Sydney's voice was choked with tears as Irina rocked her slowly, murmuring soft words to soothe her. Jack felt a lump in his throat at the sight, the expression on Irina's face was akin to the one he had seen the day she had first become a mother. There was only love there, no betrayal or deception.

"Oh, Sydney," Irina stroked her daughter's hair lovingly. "I've missed you so much."

Sydney pulled back and Irina smiled at her daughter, wiping away the tears on her face with a gentle touch. Her smile faded as they traced the scars on her face and her body tensed with anger.

"Who did this to you?" There was anger hidden in her voice now and she turned for the first time to look at Jack and Vaughn. Surprisingly, Vaughn answered before Jack had a chance.

"The Covenant," the words dropped from his lips like poison and Irina flinched. Anger flashed in her eyes and Vaughn saw once more the formidable woman who had taken his father's life and fooled so many. 

Irina took Sydney's hand and turned to the couch, setting her down gently. She sat on the table in the middle, before her daughter, and clasped her hands tightly.

"Sydney, the Covenant is looking for you. They've infiltrated agents into my circle, knowing that you might come to me if you were in desperate need of help."

Sydney nodded, "I know that they're after me. I've already met with one of their assassins, removed two tracking devices from both myself and Vaughn and killed the man who tortured me and tried to brainwash me."

Irina's eyes widened at the summary of events, "How long have you been free from them?"

Sydney frowned, struggling to calculate the passage of time. Once again, Vaughn responded for her as he crossed the room to sit down beside Sydney. He draped a protective and comforting arm across her shoulders and smiled at her as she looked to him. "Five days."

Irina smiled, a note of pride in her voice. "You did all that in five days?"

Sydney nodded, "I've had six months to make up for."

Irina studied her for a long time; at length she turned to Jack who was sitting beside her. Her faced softened into a loving smile as she gazed at him and Sydney was not surprised to see him do the same in return. Briefly, she embraced her husband and Sydney smiled.

"It's good to see you, Jack." There was love in her voice; the same that Sydney had heard in her father's only that morning. Jack could not respond but Sydney could see the way he held on to her longer than he normally would.

Irina was serious when she looked at him again, noting the wound on his forehead with a brief touch of her hand. He winced with pain and shook his head. 

"You need my help," Irina said. "But with what, I can only guess. The three of you seem like you need all the help you can get."

There was a long silence in which Jack and Sydney both turned their eyes to Vaughn. He sat beside Sydney, one hand clasping her's and the other clutching tightly to the bag he had brought with him. He did not look at them for a long time and then finally, he looked up to meet the eyes of Irina Derevko.

"Sydney and I found something in my father's home in France. She was sent by the Covenant to retrieve it and I was there when she did. It was a Rambaldi artifact, a painting."

Irina's eyes widened at his words. For the first time in all the time that he had known the woman, Vaughn saw shock on her face. She stared at him for a moment, when she spoke; her voice was barely above a whisper.

"The second prophecy," the words were whispered with awe. "I have been searching for it for over thirty years. You've had it all this time?"

Vaughn nodded, somewhat uneasy with her reaction to his statement. "I never knew. My father had hidden it in a safe in the house but we found it." Vaughn leaned forward, drawing the box out of the bag. 

Irina stretched a hand out for the box but Vaughn pulled it out of her grasp. She looked up at him with confusion in her eyes and Vaughn met her gaze steadily. "You must swear to help us. You were the only one we could trust to decipher the prophecy and understand me, it must be deciphered accurately. Our lives depend on it."

Irina searched his eyes; he did not flinch under her prying gaze. "The prophecy is about you," she whispered. Vaughn blinked in surprise at the accuracy of her guess and hesitated before nodding.

"You have to help us, mom," Sydney placed a hand on Irina's shoulder, pleading with her silently. "For me. Vaughn and I are both in danger as the subject of these prophecies and we have to know what it says."

Irina nodded slowly, her eyes flickering between her daughter and Vaughn. She smiled at him; "I have to admire your courage, Michael. Coming to me like this when I know how much you hate me."

Vaughn did not respond, merely sat waiting for her promise. She nodded, "I will do everything in my power to help you. I have only regained my daughter, I do not want to lose her again."

Vaughn nodded, satisfied with her answer. "I don't want to either," he whispered. Slowly, he opened the box and retrieved the prophecy. Irina sat beside Sydney; Jack perched on the other side of Vaughn as he rolled the prophecy out on the table.

Irina leaned over the table, eyes scanning the portrait briefly before focusing on the text. She traced the words on the page, murmuring softly to herself, forehead wrinkled with thought. She stopped at the bottom of the page; her murmuring ceasing abruptly and Sydney could feel her tense. She looked at her mother in alarm, "What does it say?"

Irina leaned back, rubbing her eyes before returning to read the text thoroughly once more. "It is a companion prophecy to that in the Rambaldi book," she muttered, her eyes still fixed on the portrait. "This page belonged in the Rambaldi book with the prophecy about you but it was removed long ago and hidden behind this painting. That is why Rambaldi mentioned Mt. Subasio in the other prophecy, it was a clue as to where to find this one." 

She looked up at them, glancing from one to the other. "Sydney, Michael, you must both remember that Rambaldi's prophecies are open to interpretation. We have seen before, they can be taken the wrong way." She hesitated and Sydney felt as if she might scream if her mother didn't answer her question.

"Mom. What does it say?" Irina met her eyes, uncertainty written deep in the depths. Looking back to the prophecy, she attempted to read it word for word.

"This man here depicted will bear his love for her in silence," Irina glanced at Sydney. "He's talking about you of course, this was meant to follow the other prophecy immediately." She returned her eyes to the page once more, reading aloud.

"He will bear his love for her in silence, guarding her from above against the will of all others. Their passion will ignite in the ashes and end in fire. He will carry a broken heirloom, a container of time that will cease to function the day he sees her face for the first time. He will bear the mark on his flesh, an ancient design of his own choosing, that proves him to be the true chosen one. Their love will transcend the boundaries of death and with from their union, she will bear a power that will be greater than any ever known before. Their child will bring an end to all suffering and evil that has been wrought and be the one to complete my work. Only with their union can the damage done in my name be repaired and balance returned to the world. Together, they will wield the power to control my inventions and destroy those that oppose them."

Irina sat back heavily, the paper drifting from her fingers to the table below. Sydney and Vaughn stared at the prophecy with wide eyes, shock written on both of their features. They had both wondered at what the prophecy would say, but none of them had ever expected this.

"Well, it's not as bad as I expected," Sydney said slowly, still recovering from the shock the words had given her. Vaughn found himself smiling, a wave of relief washing over him. She smiled back at him and squeezed his hand tightly.

"No, it definitely could have been worse," he agreed. He shook his head, "All this time, we assumed that Rambaldi was evil, but in the end he was trying to warn us with this prophecy, and give us hope." He shook his head in disbelief. "He predicted everything, the watch my father gave me, the tattoo on my arm that I designed after a symbol my father described in his journal."

"My guardian angel," Sydney whispered. "He will guard her from above, it's too much to be coincidence."

"All these years," Irina breathed, as if speaking to herself. "He knew and he hid it from me, after I saved his life, he told me it had been destroyed but he knew. He knew and feared that I would use it against you."

Sydney and Vaughn were so wrapped up in one another that they scarcely heard her speak, slowly her words registered and they each turned to her curiously.

"Who?" Vaughn felt a sinking in his chest, he was not certain that he wanted to hear her next words.

Irina looked up at him with wide eyes, after a long moment she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Your father."

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	14. Out Of Focus

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Chapter Fourteen:

Out Of Focus

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Vaughn felt the earth fall from under his feet. The world around him vanished into a thin mist that veiled his thought. His world had been broken down to consist only of the words that Irina had just spoken. They echoed in his head with painful clarity, he could not begin to process their meaning, could not imagine it to be true. He tried to rewind his life thirty seconds earlier before this new twist had taken its turn. In his mind he could see his father as he had been thirty years ago, an image he had always held onto as the last one he had. The man in his memory was a stranger.

"Vaughn," Sydney's fingers stroked his cheek softly and he blinked, seeing her in front of him suddenly. Her dark eyes watched him with concern and he knew that this was not a dream.

Slowly, the world came back into focus. Sydney was seated before him, her hands on his. She had moved so easily from relief to concern once more. Beyond her, Irina was pacing the room, muttering to herself, ignoring him completely. Jack simply watched the unfolding scene, waiting for the truth to reveal itself. Sydney was staring at him with dark eyes that were filled with confusion and concern. It was all becoming a blur once more, like a camera that slowly shifted in and out of focus. Sydney squeezed his hands softly, but he only felt the touch distantly. It was as if he stood outside himself, watching the scene unfold. When she spoke again, it was almost as if she spoke with no voice. He heard her unnaturally loud in his head, her voice consuming all other sounds.

"Breathe, Vaughn." She seemed to move in front of him with exaggerated movements, like she was swimming slowly underwater. He could see the trail her motions left imprinted on his eyes, the motion blur. Suddenly she was beside him, her hand stroking his back as she murmured gently. He could not hear her voice over the roaring in his head, his eyes were going dim. He felt himself sway slightly into Sydney's arms. Her voice came again through the fog of his thoughts, like a pale light struggling to break through the shadow.

"Vaughn! You need to breathe!" Suddenly her lips were on his, kissing him desperately, pushing air back into his exhausted lungs. He had not even realized that he had ceased to breathe, had only felt the world falling down around him.

When she pulled away, he found himself gasping for air. The world rushed in around him with a sudden force, as if trying to overcompensate for the silence he had lingered in. He lowered his head into his hands and felt Sydney still stroking his back gently, soothing him. He struggled to process everything that had just happened

"What do you mean," Vaughn spoke through clenched teeth as he looked up at Irina. "That you saved my father's life?"

Irina slowed to a stop in front of him and drew in a sharp breath, Vaughn stared at her with anger in his eyes. He could not dare to believe her until he had heard a believable explanation for her words.

Irina sat down in front of Vaughn, he was surprised to see compassion in her eyes, even more surprised by the way she clasped her hands over his lightly. "Vaughn, you must listen to me. Forget for a moment how much you hate me and think about everything you've discovered. Did you not wonder at all of the seeming coincidences that brought you and Sydney here?"

Vaughn gazed at her steadily, probing her expression for any deceit but could find none. Irina could see the understanding begin to dawn in his eyes, she knew he would not like it.

"Are you telling me," his voice was a low hiss, filled with anger and fear. "That every step of our lives have been orchestrated by you?"

"No," Irina shook her head. "Your life is the sum of your own choices, but your choices were predicted by Rambaldi. Your father was sent to find this prophecy and in doing so, he set it into motion. I was sent to kill your father and take the prophecy from him but he had already hidden it when I found him. It's true that I killed those other agents, because I was trying to get to him. I offered him a choice, if he told me where to find the prophecy, I would spare his life. He told me that the prophecy had been destroyed, but that he had seen it and only he could tell me what it said." Irina's eyes clouded over with memory, Sydney and Vaughn stared at her in disbelief. 

"I pulled him out of the fire, but before he would tell me what the prophecy said, he made me agree never to harm you or your mother. I told him that I would do so only if he disappeared, if my superiors knew that he was still alive they would have killed us both. We struck an agreement and he told me the prophecy, which I know now was a fabrication on his part." Irina shook her head, "For years, Bill and I have been working together on and off. Together, we have been searching for clues to the Rambaldi puzzle and all that time I was following leads that the false prophecy gave me. All these years, and he knew exactly where it was." Vaughn stared at her as she spoke, his eyes unseeing. He could no longer see her, only the images her words conjured in his mind. 

"This prophecy says that you will bring down those that oppose you and clearly your father believed that I was one of those people. If only he had told me..." She trailed off, lost in her own thoughts. "We were working together to find the Rambaldi artifacts but our end games were very different. I wanted to solve the mystery and discover the truth behind the Rambaldi puzzle, I wanted to protect my daughter at the same time. He wanted only to protect you." 

"My father is alive," the admission made it real for him at last. He did not realize how hard he was clutching Irina's hands until he felt Sydney gently pry his fingers free. He could not move, could not turn to look at her. It was too much for him, all of it, any normal person would have cracked long ago.

He could feel her fingers touch his face lightly as she turned his head toward him, he looked at her in a daze. Her face was wet with tears, unconsciously he reached a hand up to wipe away the tears. She gripped his hand and when she smiled, he could feel his mind clear.

"I want to see him," his eyes were fixed on Sydney, though his words were meant for Irina. Sydney however nodded in response, she understood how he felt as always. 

"You deserve to see him," she whispered. Vaughn smiled in gratitude for her unwavering support. He turned to Irina, his eyes hardening with resolve.

"Do you know where he is?"

Irina shifted uncomfortably, "I have been in contact with your father sporadically for the past thirty years. I can contact him if you wish, only he can fully explain to you his reasons for why he hid this prophecy from you."

Vaughn nodded slowly, his mind whirling with information. Sydney stroked his arm gently and he turned his eyes to her. When he looked at her, everything else melted away and there was nothing but the two of them. There was no pain or suffering or betrayal, only a feeling of deep serenity. She was safe for now, that was all that really mattered in the long run. He smiled at her, reaching up to stroke her hair gently. She looked exhausted, dark circles shadowing her eyes. She had become so thin, he could not even remember the last time they had eaten. She was still beautiful however, she stole his breath every time she looked at him.

"We need to sleep," Vaughn said. Irina nodded but he did not look at her, she could see how all of this had worn Sydney down. There would be time for explanations later, now was the only chance they could have for a moment's rest. They had been running for so long on pure adrenaline that, Vaughn was an empty shell, drained of all strength. Their adversaries could beat them with a single blow if they were found in this state.

"There is a room in the back where you two can sleep," Irina looked them both up and down knowingly. "You two look like you need it."

Vaughn stood, pulling Sydney up with one hand. He nodded at Irina in thanks, "While we are sleeping, I want you to contact my father and arrange a meet."

Irina nodded and Vaughn thought he could see a flicker of fear in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. Shaking his head, he turned and led Sydney into the bedroom.

Jack and Irina were left alone in the room, each filled with silence as they contemplated all that had just occurred. Irina sat heavily in the seat Vaughn had just vacated and studied the prophecy again. She seemed to be searching for something that she could not find. Jack watched her quietly, studying her every movement.

"Why didn't you tell me about William?" His question was spoken softly into the stillness. Irina did not move, merely moved her eyes from the paper to Jack. 

"It never came up."

Jack snorted his disbelief, he stood and sat down next to his wife. Gently, he eased the paper from her hands and forced her to look at him. 

"Are you protecting him or yourself?" He asked it seriously, unsure of how to proceed. So much had changed between them but a part of him still did not fully trust her.

"Are you talking now about William or Michael?" Irina asked, her dark eyes fixed on his. Those eyes had always been able to see behind his walls, they probed deep into his heart. She had a tendency of turning her answers into questions.

"Does it matter?"

Irina sighed, "I suppose not, but you of all people should know, Jack. I'm protecting Sydney."

"From what?" Jack's eyes hardened as he glanced down at the paper in his hand. "What aren't you telling me?"

Irina bit her lip nervously and pointed to a line of text at the bottom of the page. "There is more here that I couldn't tell them. I didn't want to tell them what this said."

Jack looked at her, searching for an answer in the shadows of her eyes. "What does it say?" 

"He will be the blood of my blood," Irina recited the passage without looking down at the prophecy. "A son without a father, a prophet with no voice, seer with no sight. He will betray her in his blood if he cannot pay the dire cost." Her words were emotionless but Jack could read the fear in her eyes. 

"What does it mean?" He asked, clasping her hand in his own. Irina shook her head.

"I don't know," there was fear in her voice when she whispered. "But I think there has been more behind William's motives for a long time that I have never suspected. He is the only one who can give us any type of concrete answers."

Jack squeezed her hand briefly, receiving a quick smile flashed in his direction. Her eyes quickly turned back to the prophecy, forehead wrinkling in thought. Jack stood, his hand slipping from her. He crossed the room and picked up the phone, when Irina looked up again she found herself facing Jack. The phone was hovering in front of her face and she swallowed hard, dreading the call she would have to make. She met Jack's eyes and found a silent command issued in them, she was not a woman who followed commands lightly but in this case, she had no choice. She was a prisoner of the text on the page, of the people in this building, but they did not know it yet.

Taking the phone from Jack, she started to dial.

  
  


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Sydney hated the darkness. It was an irrational feeling, one she would never have given into before her abduction. She also found herself much more claustrophobic after being locked in a cell for five months. But as she curled together with Vaughn, his warm arms wrapped tightly around her in the small dark room, she knew no fear. There was no world outside when they were together, only the sensation of flesh against flesh and hearts beating as one.

As much as they pushed the outside world away however, the overload of information they had just received lingered in their thoughts. Sydney recalled her reaction her mother's reappearance among the living, but Vaughn had never had to deal with this situation. She knew however, that when he needed her, he would let her know. He needed her now to be his support, his strength and in return, he was the same for her. The ugly truth had reared its twisted head in many forms since they had returned to one another. The truth was written in the twisted smile of Lauren Reed, who was still hunting them tirelessly. It had come in the form of Oleg, and his perverse pleasure at what he had done to her. It had been hidden beneath layers of paint and in her mother's eyes as she watched the two of them carefully. The truth was constantly fluctuating between setting them free and chaining them down.

Sydney shivered and curled closer against Vaughn, one of his hands was stroking her back, the other tangled in her hair. She pressed her ear against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating, its steady bass soothing her. Moving her head up to his, she pressed her lips against his mouth and found him waiting for her willingly. She could feel the low hum in his throat as her hands pulled away from his chest to tangle in his hair. He pressed closer to her, his body warming her chilled flesh.

She was waiting for him to speak and he knew it, he could feel the words balled up in the back of his throat. When she broke out of the kiss, leaning her forehead against his, he heard them spill forth without conscious thought.

"Are you scared?" He asked, it was a raspy whisper against her flesh and he could almost see her smile. He had just received half a dozen life changing revelations within the span of ten minutes and his first concern was still for her.

Sydney shook her head, "Nothing scares me." She whispered with confidence that she barely felt. Vaughn smiled at her in the darkness, a flash of white illuminating her eyes.

"Not even a prophecy that predicts the fate of your unborn child?" 

Sydney went still in his arms, swallowing hard. She had not given it much thought, too wrapped up in everything else that had happened that she had not truly considered what it might mean. In light of all they had learned, however, something occurred to her.

"I suppose this is how your father felt," she whispered. "Though, I wonder which is worse. Learning that your only child is involved in an ancient prophecy that you have unwittingly brought about? Or knowing beforehand, to decide your child's future before he is even born."

Vaughn was quiet for a long moment, stroking her hair gently as he pondered her words. "You're right," he whispered. She tilted her head to look up at him in the darkness. Her eyes, as they adjusted, could slowly discern his distinctive features and the way his eyes were fixed on her though they most likely could not see her.

"I don't know whether to be angry with my father, or grateful. All I know is this lurking fear that all of this is going to go horribly wrong again." He swallowed hard, pressing close to her and nuzzling his face into her neck.

"I'm afraid, Sydney," his words were muffled by her skin but she heard them as much as she felt them vibrate through her flesh. She kissed his neck softly and stroked his hair.

"I love you," she whispered. "Your fear is nothing in the face of what we have. We can stand against anything and anyone, Vaughn. We will make it," her eyes burned with sudden tears as the words left her mouth. "Our child will make it," the last was a broken whisper into the darkness. She was reminded of the way she used to whisper into the oblivion, hoping that he might hear her. Only now could he hear her whispered confessions the way she wanted.

His hand trailed across her body to rest on the swell of her stomach, "Our child," he whispered softly. He kissed her softly, unable to express the emotion that welled up in his heart at the thought. A child born of the two of them, with green eyes and dark hair. He had dreamed about their children for so long, he could barely comprehend that it would finally happen.

Sydney cupped his face with her hand and stroked his cheek tenderly, "We should get some sleep." He did not respond, his face buried in her neck, breathing deeply against her skin. She smiled and poked him gently, "Vaughn?" He was already asleep. With a smile on her face, Sydney closed her eyes to join him.

  
  


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Lauren stood alone in the abandoned warehouse, a cigarette clenched tightly between cold fingers. The silence made her uneasy as she waited for Sark to arrive. She watched the smoke drift up between her hands, she hated the taste of the cigarettes but craved it badly when she was nervous. Taking a long drag, she watched the embers flare briefly, illuminating her skin in the dim light.

Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back against the wall with a heavy sigh. She had been tracking Bristow and Vaughn for three days now with barely a moment's rest. She had been kicked in the face, pushed off a boat, stranded in the rain and now she would be forced to defer to a pretentious younger agent who worked for Irina Derevko. She did not like it one bit. 

Bringing her head back down, she opened her eyes and jumped slightly in surprise. Julian Sark stood in front of her, a cocky smirk playing across his lips. He had appeared out of the shadows, waiting for her attention to be drawn to him. 

"Did I startle you?" Lauren was faintly surprised to hear a touch of sophistication in his voice, a perfectly cultured English accent mixed with some Irish roots. It was an attractive voice for an attractive man, Lauren was surprised to find herself smiling back at him.

"It has been a long day," she told him. Sark nodded in seeming empathy.

"I understand how demanding the pursuit of Sydney Bristow can be," he told her. His eyes glazed with a foreign emotion when he said her name. It was not anger or hatred, something possibly akin to nostalgia? Lauren hid her surprise this time, she had not known that Sark had met Sydney before. She wished that she had been given some time to read up on the man she would be working with. She despised the feeling of being in the dark.

"I need to know where she is," Lauren tried to issue an air of authority into her voice, Sark seemed amused by this. 

"And why, exactly, do you want to find her, Ms. Reed?" 

Lauren took another drag off the cigarette and then dropped it to the cement floor, crushing it beneath her shoe. Stepping closer to Sark, she stared determinedly into his eyes. "Because I plan on killing her, Mr. Sark."

Sark sighed and shook his head, "I was afraid of that. I cannot allow that to happen."

Lauren's face twisted from the seductive smile to a twisted mask of cruelty and rage, "Why the hell not?" She demanded, grabbing his arm. Sark stepped back with a frown, removing her hand and smoothing his clothes.

"Because she is too important. She's far more important than you, or me. The Covenant is a group of fools, they place too much importance on the prophecies and not enough on the people involved. You kill Sydney and you're destroying everything." Sark stepped closer to her, his pleasant expression vanishing. Lauren saw suddenly that beneath the surface, this man was cold blooded and would not hesitate to kill her where she stood.

"I can take you to her, but I will not let you harm her. She must be kept alive at all costs. You may return to your precious organization with her but she must not be harmed."

Lauren stared at him, hatred burning in her heart. She could not stand the thought of Sydney Bristow alive, but if she made the Covenant's current situation any worse, she would pay dearly for it. Caging Sydney Bristow for the rest of her natural life was the thing that Sydney and Vaughn both feared most. If that was the best Lauren could do, she would do it.

"Fine," she spit her words like venom. "Take me to her, and I will not harm a hair on her precious head."

Sark smiled.

  
  


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Vaughn woke suddenly in the darkness, sitting bolt upright. His eyes darted rapidly around the room, he could hear his heavy breathing as he struggled to pinpoint what had woken him. Slowly, the sound of blood rushing in his ears died down to a dull roar and he could hear Sydney moaning softly. She sounded like she was in terrible pain, fear gripped Vaughn's heart with icy fingers. He switched on the bedside lamp beside him and warm golden light spilled across the both of them. Sydney was curled up beside him, her back facing him. The bed sheets were twisted around her shaking body, clenched tightly in her fists. She was still moaning terribly, crying out incoherent words in her sleep. Vaughn thought he heard his name tangled amidst the gibberish that spilled from her lips. 

Very gently, he placed one hand on her shoulder and whispered her name softly. "Syd?" She did not respond to the touch of his hand, nor the sound of his voice. She had retreated deep in the dark recesses of her own mind where her most painful memories lingered. Sorrow rose up in him as he realized what she must be reliving in her dreams. He could protect her from everyone that sought to harm her, everyone but herself.

He found himself staring down at her helplessly, stroking her back gently, kissing her hair softly. He murmured words of love to her but she did not react. Finally, he turned her over to face him and wrapped his arms around her. Pulling her close to him, he settled his forehead against her own and whispered softly to her. She resisted his hands, pushing back weakly against him as he pulled her closer to him but he knew that she was not fighting him. 

"Shh," he whispered softly. "I'm here, baby. No one is going to hurt you now, I'm here. I'll protect you but I can't protect you from your own memories. You have to wake up, Sydney. I'm here..."

Her eyes snapped open suddenly, her entire body tensing against his. She found his eyes staring back at her, bright green clashing with brown. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but beneath the sheen of moisture, she was deathly pale. Vaughn moved one hand to touch her face, but before his hand even landed, she shot out of the bed and away from him. His hand landed heavily on the twisted sheets she had left behind. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, looking around in confusion. Sydney darted into the small bathroom on the other side of the room and slammed the door.

Vaughn frowned, getting out of the bed and crossing the room. Leaning his head against the door, he knocked gently and struggled to listen to what was happening inside. He could hear the sound of running water and what sounded like gagging.

Quietly, he opened the door and slipped inside. The sink was running at full force but Sydney was bent over the toilet, head lowered as she emptied the contents of her stomach into it. Her dark hair fell in a curtain around her face and his confusion transformed suddenly into understanding.

"Syd, baby," he shook his head and knelt beside her. Tenderly, he stroked her hair and gathered the strands into his hand, holding it back from her face. Her eyes flickered to him briefly in gratitude before returning to the toilet as she vomited once more. Vaughn's hand rubbed her back in gentle circles as she heaved. He whispered incoherent words of love into her ear, soothing her as best as he could. He could read fear in every line of her body, she had been badly shaken.

When at last, she was done, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked up at him with wide eyes. She was as white as a sheet, her skin seeming even paler in contrast to the darkness of her hair that billowed around her weary face. Vaughn slid one hand to the back of her head as she gazed up at him and then sighing softly, he drew her close to her. She collapsed against him on the cold linoleum floor, head burrowing into his chest. They were both afraid, but neither could speak the words that would make it real.

At last, Sydney broke the silence, her words muffled by his skin. "Vaughn."

He caressed her hair softly and swallowed hard, hearing the tremor in her voice. "Yeah?"

She pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes darting wildly around the small bathroom before she responded. As if someone was watching her even now and they were not safe.

"Vaughn," she bit her lip and met his eyes at last. "I think I'm pregnant."

For the second time that night, the world fell from beneath their feet with simple words that would change their lives forever.

  
  


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	15. Revelations

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Chapter Fifteen:

Revelations

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Vaughn stared at her wordlessly, his eyes wide with shock and a thin veil of fear. Sydney hated that this news could not be a happy moment for them, she had imagined it happening so many times but never like this. She swallowed her tears and pulled away from him, standing to splash her face with water. He came up behind her while she washing her mouth out, wrapping his arms around her. She could not bear to meet his eyes in the mirror, knowing if she did so she would break down into his arms yet again. 

His palms smoothed over her skin to rest on the swell of her stomach, sliding her shirt up to touch the bare flesh hidden beneath. He pulled her close to him from behind, pressing against her and resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Syd," the sound of her name from his lips forced her eyes to his. There was a gentle smile on his face as he gazed at her and it grew slowly. "This is amazing."

Sydney crumbled, the tears spilling out as she shook her head. "No, Vaughn. Don't you understand?" The horror was rising inside of her, gripping her with paralyzing fear. She could barely force the words past the lump in her throat but knew that she had to, she knew that they had to face the truth.

"This child may not be yours," it was a strangled gasp that escaped her lips. She watched the joy in his eyes morph quickly back into the same fear she felt. Images of her rape experiences came back to her, he could see them reflected in his eyes. A burning anger rose in his heart that he struggled to suppress, he had to be strong for her.

"It is," he rocked her gently in his arms and planted a row of kisses along her neck. They bloomed on her flesh like roses, coloring the pale skin gently. She sighed softly and shook her head.

"How can you know?" She asked, her words were filled with a deep pain and he stroked the swell of her stomach gently. 

"I can feel it," he whispered. He knew no better way to explain it, but he felt deep in his heart that she bore no man's child but his. "It is our destiny, after all." He smiled again at her, joy filling his heart when he saw her smile softly in response. He turned her to face him and stared deep into her eyes, struggling to replace her fear with joy. 

Wordlessly, she fell against him and that was all he needed to gather her up in his arms gently. She was as light as gossamer in his arms, but the way she nestled her head into his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck was the realest thing he had ever felt. He carried her back into the bedroom and settled her back down in the bed.

"You need to rest, you have been through way too much in the past few days. You deserve to sleep," he smoothed a tender hand across her brow and she nodded sleepily. Her eyes were already closing, the most recent emotional exhaustion already draining her strength. He leaned over to kiss her gently on the forehead and wrapped himself around her. One hand settled protectively over her stomach and he smiled at the thought of their child. They had been through far too much to be denied this.

He was dozing lightly beside her when he felt the light touch on his shoulder. He moved without thinking, snapping to attention instantly. He gripped the wrist of the person intruding their space and found himself staring into the eyes of Irina Derevko. He relaxed and let go with a slight sigh. Irina's eyes flickered to the sleeping Sydney and she gestured to the hallway outside. Vaughn eased himself out of the bed gently, placing a kiss on Sydney's forehead as he did so. He pulled the covers up around her and tucked her in gently, she did not stir.

He turned the light off as he left the room, casting one last glance back in to make sure she was still asleep. Closing the door softly behind him, he leaned against it to gaze at Irina. They expression on her face was fierce but there was tenderness in her eyes.

"What is it?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest and looking down at her. Irina bit her lip, tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear in a mannerism that was so typical of Sydney, Vaughn almost smiled.

"I've spoken with your father."

Vaughn straightened, his arms falling away from his chest. "What did he say?" He asked urgently, he had almost forgotten in the excitement.

"He has agreed to meet with you," Irina's eyes darkened. "But only you."

Vaughn frowned, "Why?"

Irina shook her head, "He didn't say but I am not surprised that he doesn't trust me. He probably suspects I'm keeping you prisoner."

Vaughn bit his lip and glanced at the door to the room where Sydney rested, obliviously unaware. "When?"

"In an hour, he will be in Dublin." 

Vaughn nodded, "I suppose that means I'll have to leave now."

"Yes, it is probably best that Sydney is sleeping. She would not want you to go alone."

Vaughn felt a sense of uneasiness creep into his heart at the thought of leaving Sydney. They had not been seperated since the moment they found each other again and he did not want to change that. However he could not pass up this chance to see his father.

"I'll be ready in five minutes, have a car ready."

Irina nodded and turned away, Vaughn watched her walk away in silence, he struggled to quiet the chaos of his thought into coherent order. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door behind him and slipped back into the darkened room.

He approached the bed quietly and stood over Sydney's sleeping form for a long moment, watching her with a silent reverence. She appeared so peaceful now, the nightmares gone and her fears forgotten. She had rolled over to his side of the bed, one arm flung across the empty space where he should be. Her hand was clutching his pillow lightly, the way she gripped his shoulder unconciously at night. Constantly holding on for support. 

He shed his clothes quietly, depositing them into a small pile at the foot of the bed. Dressing quickly, he found a piece of paper and pen to scrawl her a quick note of what was happening. Folding it and writing her name across the top, he left it on the pillow she was holding onto. Kissing her head softly one last time, he whispered into her hair.

"I love you," turning on his heel, he left her sleeping peacefully in an empty bed.

__

The world outside was surprisingly bright and clear for an Irish morning. Vaughn took this as a good omen as he pulled up into the empty parking lot and stepped out of the car. The prophecy was concealed in a small bag slung across his shoulder, Jack and Irina had both been hesitant to let it out of their sight but they had no choice. William had clearly expressed his terms for the meeting and there was no question in Vaughn's mind of complying. He could understand why his father would not trust Irina, but he wished that Sydney could be with him. Though he was thrilled at the thought of seeing his father again, he knew how calming and empowering her presence was for him. She kept him strong however, even when she was not with him.

The designated meeting place was an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Dublin. Vaughn glanced around the parking lot for any signs of life but found none, unconsciously he checked his gun in its holster. It was a force of habit that he had not been able to shake even six months after leaving the CIA. He stopped short before the heavy metal doors, the only barrier now between his father and himself. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath and quieted his mind. Briefly he wished once more for Sydney's calming presence but just the thought of her soothed his frayed nerves. Her face smiled at him behind closed lids and he grinned back. Pushing one hand against the door, he found it opening easily beneath his touch. Quietly, he entered the building.

The warehouse was dark inside, dim and dusty. He could see the dust dancing in the air where the thin light shone through windows high in the wall. He moved deeper into the large room and halted abruptly in the middle, as one of the shadows move away from the wall to meet him.

Time seemed to slow, his heightened senses aware of every noise and movement around him. The scurrying of mice into the corners, the swoop of a bird's wings as it fluttered out of the rafters, the way the light danced across his father's face as he stepped into the room to face Vaughn.

They stood in silence for a long moment that seemed to stretch out into nothingness, staring at one another in awe. Vaughn could see himself reflected in the man before him, he could see the stranger in his memories brought to life before his eyes. He was older, of course, they both were. He had lines furrowed deep into his forehead that crinkled as he studied Vaughn, deep green eyes that were so like his own, the same sharp profile. Vaughn struggled to breathe, to speak, but could barely do so and maintain standing. Thirty years worth of sorrow over his father's death rushed over him like a wave crashing onto shore. 

"Michael," it was William who broke the silence first with that simple word, the name he had given to him so long ago. Vaughn stared at him in disbelief, unable to move.

William Vaughn smiled at his son and moved to embrace him. Vaughn was still in his arms for a moment before allowing his composure to crumble. He wrapped his arms tightly around his father and gasped for air, swallowing the broken sob that rose from his throat. 

"Dad," the whisper was like dust in the sunlight, barely tangible but real enough to whisper across his flesh. William Vaughn pulled back and looked at his son, studying his face with a quiet concentration that Vaughn knew he had inherited.

"Michael, after all these years," he shook his head and Vaughn could see pride gleaming in his eyes. "I knew this day would come," his eyes drifted to the bag Vaughn was clutching loosely and his face hardened. He turned back to his son and gripped his shoulders, "You have brought the prophecy?"

There was an urgency in his voice, something hidden beneath the surface that caused Vaughn to shift away from him uncomfortably. "Yes."

William stepped away and rubbed his face with the calloused palms of his hands. His gaze drifted around the warehouse momentariliy before returning to his son. Vaughn could see something in his eyes that appeared to be regret and the sense of unease that had lingered with him all throughout the day grew and flared into a spark of fear.

"What do you know about this prophecy?" All of the questions that Vaughn had kept bottled up inside of him the past few days threatened to spill from him suddenly. He struggled to sort them out and speak coherently.

William looked for a long time at his son, studying the emotion on his face. "I know everything," he whispered. He seemed sorrowful as he spoke, "I've dedicated the last thirty years to learning the truth, Michael. There is no way that I can simply tell you all that I have learned."

"You can try," Vaughn swallowed hard and felt his walls harden against this stranger before him, his father. He had the same features, the same mannerisms, but the father he had known would never keep something like this from him.

William shook his head, "I know that you are questioning everything, Michael. I know that you are afraid." He stepped closer to his son and gripped his shoulder tightly, Vaughn stared into his eyes, unafraid, challenging him wordlessly. 

"You're damn right I'm questioning everything," Vaughn heard anger seep into his voice and could not control its course. "First I find this prophecy that I never knew about, then I learn that my father never died from the woman I hated because I thought she killed you. I don't know what to think anymore."

William watched him closely as he spoke and heard the words he did not say, he almost smiled at it. He knew that Vaughn was protecting her, could feel it in the words he did not speak. "You didn't mention discovering that the woman you love is alive as well."

Fire flared in Vaughn's eyes, startling William with its intensity. He stepped closer to his father, his stance no longer relaxed but alert and poised on the edge. "What do you know about Sydney?" He hissed the words and William knew then how much his son loved this woman. It almost broke his heart to realize it.

"I know many things about Sydney Bristow, I knew about her before you ever did."

Vaughn was filled with anger now, a thin current of fear coursing beneath a sea of rage. He gripped his father by the lapels and yelled into his face, "Who are you? What do you want from us? What happened to the man that was once my father?" He was trembling with rage and William stepped out of his grasp smoothly. He studied Vaughn cautiously, gaining new respect for his son. Michael Vaughn was not a coward.

"I am still your father, Michael, though I have missed so much. All these years, I have been acting on your behalf."

Vaughn glared at him through narrowed eyes, "What have you done to me?"

"I simply set you on a course that would lead you to your destiny. If I had not done what I did, you would have never met Sydney Bristow and you know it as well as I."

"You took away my choices in life!" Vaughn shook his head and threw the bag containing the prophecy to the ground. William merely shook his head calmly.

"I expected you to be wiser than this, Michael. Your choices are what led you here, I merely influenced their direction."

"Tell me what you know!"

"Thirty years ago I was assigned to investigate the Milo Rambaldi artifacts. I learned much about them, how to read the text, what devices we knew of at the time. I was sent on a mission to find the painting that you have since seen. It was then that I discovered that it was no mere coincidence that brought me to the Rambaldi mystery. It was fate." William bent down gracefully to retrieve the bag with the prophecy. He held it lightly as if it were a living creature, thriving beneath his touch. Vaughn simply stared at him, at a loss for words. The emotions that conflicted within his breast at the moment were far too consuming to be sorted out quickly.

"I knew that you were the man in the prophecy, not I. I also knew that I could never trust the CIA with this information because God knows what they would have done to you. So I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances, I struck a deal with Irina Derevko and escaped. I have dedicated the last thirty years to finding Rambaldi artifacts in connection with the prophecy. I have done things that you might hate me for but all of my actions have been for your protection. Everything I have done has been to fulfill the prophecy and end it once and for all."

Vaughn shook his head, "How am I supposed to believe you?"

"You think it is coincidence that all of this has happened? That your precious Sydney was sent to my home after all this time to retrieve a prophecy long thought destroyed? Who do you think fed that intel to the Covenant?"

Vaughn stared at him, the fear in his heart growing faster. "You work for the Covenant," he breathed. He did not want to believe it, could not bear to believe that his own father was the one responsible for what had been done to Sydney. 

William smirked and shook his head, almost sadly. "No, Michael. I am the Covenant."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Vaughn was truly alarmed now, this meeting had spiralled rapidly out of control. For the first time, he was glad that Sydney had not come with him. He would have been delivering her straight into the hands of her enemy, his father.

"When the Alliance was destroyed, a man named Arvin Sloane came to me." Vaughn spit on the floor at William's feet at the mention of Sloane's name, a look of true disgust in his eyes.

"You work with Sloane?" The shock was clear in his voice. William shook his head, unsure of how he could explain himself adequately.

"Not anymore. At the time, we had things to offer one another, it was the lesser of two evils. He wanted to use my Rambaldi artifacts and promised me that what he found would be something beneficial to all of Rambaldi's followers. We formed a small group called the Covenant, but about six months ago we split apart. Sloane had unearthed a new Rambaldi prophecy that he refused to share with me, he began to do horrible things and I withdrew my partnership."

Vaughn snapped into action suddenly, slamming his father against the hard cement of the wall and hissing with rage. "Did you know about what they did to Sydney?" When William did not answer, Vaughn slammed him against the wall once more. "Tell me!"

"Yes, I knew, but I was not behind it and by the time I learned of her abduction, it was too late. Michael, you must understand that all of this has been part of a greater plan. All of the suffering that you two have endured has been to prepare you for what is to come next!" William gasped for breath beneath Vaughn's tight grip, but his son did not budge. "We have come to the breaking point, Michael. The beginning of the end. You must understand, Michael! Everything I have done, has been for you." 

Vaughn's fingers dug into his flesh and his verdant eyes darkened to chips of steel, gazing steadily into his father's face. "You're a liar."

William sighed, "I'm sorry that it has to be this way, Michael." Looping his arms around his son, as if to hug him close, William thought he felt Vaughn softening his grip slightly. Seeing his opportunity, he brought his fist up hard into Vaughn's head. He watched his son's eyes roll back in his head, an expression of shock crossing his face as he crumpled to the floor.

"I am sorry, Michael," William breathed as he stepped over his son's still form. "There is still one more trial that you must endure, the hardest yet." He rested his hand on Vaughn's forehead, smoothing away the wrinkles there. "You cannot escape your destiny, son."

Carefully, almost tenderly, he gathered his son into his arms. Vaughn was limp in his grasp, unmoving, unseeing, unknowing of what was to come. He carried him out of the building to the car he had concealed at the rear of the building. It was time to run the last stretch of the race, William was simply doing his part to ensure who the victor would be. 

When he had settled Vaughn into the backseat of the car, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed quickly. The sound of the numbers reverberated in his head and he chased away the doubts that lingered in the back of his mind, he knew that this was the only course. 

"Is everything in order, Julian?" 

Sark's smooth voice filtered through the wires to meet William's ears. "Yes, sir. We are on our way now."

"Good, it has been sent into motion. I have him with me."

"Sir, are you sure about this?" Sark frowned and kept his voice low, he could sense Lauren looking at him from the other seat of the car in curiosity. He avoided her glare. 

William frowned as he slid into the driver's seat of the car and closed the door behind him, "Julian, what have I told you about questioning me?"

"Yes, Sir. My apologies, I will carry out your orders without question, Sir."

"Good, I'm counting on you Julian."

"I will not fail you, Sir." Lauren was staring pointedly at him now, he could feel it but Sark ignored her. They were coming up on the safehouse now.

"I'm counting on that, Julian." Williams last words were puncuated by the phone clicking off in Sark's ear. He sighed and flipped the phone closed. 

"Who was that?" Lauren asked, her voice was filled with suspicion and Sark glared at her.

"No one you should be concerned with, Ms. Reed. You should focus your mind on the matters at hand, we're here now."

Lauren looked up at the building as they approached, a cruel smile twisting her face. She would get her revenge soon enough.

__

Sydney awoke with a start for the second time in darknes, but this time something was different. There was a panic rising deep inside of her and she glanced around the dim room wildly, searching for Vaughn. Her eyes fell on the empty space beside her and the note with her name on it, inscribed by his hand. Her heart sank deep into her chest and she picked it up with trembling hands, afraid of the words she might find within.

"Syd,

My father has agreed to meet with me, but only me. I am leaving for a warehouse in Dublin, your mother can tell you the details. Rest easy and I'll be back before you know it. I love you now and forever.

Yours forever, Vaughn."

Sydney felt a wave of nausea sweep over her, an unconscious reminder of her fragile state. She clutched her stomach with her hand and swallowed hard, something had gone wrong. She could feel it deep in her bones, something had happened to Vaughn.

Bolting from the bed, she threw on the closest clothes she could find, Vaughn's t-shirt and her pants. She could smell him on the clothes, a deep clean scent that had always felt like home to her. Now it heightened her fear, the sixth sense she had for Vaughn was flaring up. She knew in her heart with a certainty that terrified her that something had happened to him.

She rushed into the outer room where her parents were seated at the table. The note was clutched in her hand, knuckles turning as white as the paper with the force. She struggled to keep herself from shaking, she could not let her parents know about the pregnancy.

"Where is Vaughn?" She demanded to know when they turned to look at her. The words turned to ash in her mouth when she saw the expressions on their face. They were scared.

"I believe I can answer that question," a smooth voice from the shadows met her ears and Sydney froze. She knew that voice. 

She turned slowly to meet Sark's eyes, he smiled cordially at her and stepped from the shadows. He was followed by Lauren Reed, Sydney seethed with barely contained rage. She leapt for the woman, her hands closing around her throat instantly.

"What have you done with him, bitch?" Sydney was shaking now, overwhelmed by the terror that was rising inside of her. Lauren simply smiled and shook her head. Sark gently pried Sydney's fingers away from her throat and shook his head.

"Now, Sydney. I am here to offer you something that you cannot refuse. Killing my associates will not help you get your boyfriend back."

Sydney's hands fell from Lauren's throat as she turned to Sark. "What do you know, Sark?"

He smiled, Sydney resisted the urge to slam his head into the wall and wipe that smirk from his face. "I know many things, Sydney. I told you once that we would work together, you and I, we are very much alike. You will come to see this."

"Stop speaking in riddles, Sark, and answer my question!"

Sark studied her closely, his eyes drifting around the room from Jack and Irina who sat motionless at the table. Both were vibrating with rage, Irina thought he had betrayed her, Jack simply hated him. He looked back to the two women before him, Lauren seemed quite pleased with what was happening though he knew she would not be happy until Sydney was dead. Sydney was a whirlwind of emotion, fluctuating between anger and fear, rage and sorrow. He had always admired her composure, her courage in the face of any danger but this was a new side to her. She was a woman deep down, beneath the tough spy exterior and she loved this man, Michael Vaughn, with an intensity that even Sark could see.

"I work for William Vaughn, the head of the Covenant."

Sydney gasped in shock, aware of the way everyone around her had the same reaction. None of them had known this either, not even Lauren who was a Covenant agent.

"Oh, God…" Sydney stumbled away from Sark to collapse heavily in a seat between her parents. Instantly, she felt Jack's hand on her back, soothing her gently. Irina did not move, staring at Sark with rage in her eyes.

"You have betrayed me, Sark," the hiss of anger in her voice was so like Sydney's. His eyes flickered to her and he shook his head slowly.

"No, Irina. I have done what you could not. I have seen the Rambaldi prophecies come to fruition, none of you can understand what has been sacrificed in order for this moment to be possible. But listen to me and listen carefully, Michael Vaughn will die if you do not come with me. The prophecy will never be fulfilled and all of our life's work will have gone to waste."

Lauren spoke up from the shadows, "If William Vaughn is the head of the Covenant, why was I ordered to kill his son?" Her hatred was forgotten in her confusion and she looked up at Sark with genuine curiosity.

Sark sighed heavily, "The Covenant was the child of Arvin Sloane and William Vaughn, created to study the Rambaldi artifacts and see to the fulfillment of the prophecies. It split into two factions when the Telling machine was activated and Sloane discovered what he felt to be his true purpose. Vaughn and Sloane disagreed and Sloane took control of the Covenant. Sloane is the man who abducted you, Sydney. He is the one that hired Oleg to torture you, Ms. Reed here to kill you. William Vaughn had no part of that, he is trying to correct the mistakes that Sloane has made."

"How are we supposed to believe you?" Jack asked, his hatred for this man coming to the surface in full force. Sydney merely sat in absolute stillness, her eyes cast down on the table before her. It was as if she had not heard a word Sark had spoken, she seemed lost in her own thoughts but every person in the room knew better. She had heard it all.

Sark shook his head, "The only way to know the truth for yourselves is to come with me. William can explain everything to you himself."

"Vaughn's father has abducted him," Sydney said slowly. She was slightly confused by all of this, but the basic facts were laid bare before her. She did not have to look up at Sark for his nod of assent, she knew it to be true already. Slowly, she looked up to meet Sark's eyes. They stared at each other for a long time, the clash of equals on opposing sides. Sydney didn't know who she was working for anymore, her only concern was for Vaughn. 

"We will come." She whispered. Sark smiled in satisfaction, the pieces were falling into place.

__


	16. Shades of Gray

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Chapter Sixteen:

Shades of Grey

__

The world was upside down, black had become white and Michael Vaughn was inside out. His thoughts flew away on the wind, his memories shrouded in a seamless fog. The world flickered behind closed eyelids and he saw nothing, held outside himself and caged within. The only tangible images he could hold onto was her face, the sound of her voice that echoed in his ears. Dark eyes that he had seen glazed with both pain and pleasure. He knew that he had to hold on for her, he was certain of it when he knew nothing else. She was keeping the blood pumping in his breast, the flow of his breath. 

He saw her a hundred different ways, in every space of lifetime that he had known her. She was always with him, bruised and battered, scattered on the sea, alive and with a child at her breast. He knew it all and nothing but the simple truth that all things were found in her.

Sydney. Her name whispered in his mind, he could not forget. Gradually, he came back to himself, rousing himself from the depth of his unconscious mind. Reality filtered in slowly and he struggled to open his eyes.

He was greeted by the sight of his father, sitting casually in front of him in a plush armchair. Vaughn frowned and glanced around the room, noting for the first time that he was stretched out on a luxurious velvet couch. He appeared to be in an office of some sort, presumably belonging to William. He had no memory of coming here; the last thing he remembered was the pain in the back of his head.

He winced as the pain shot through his skull again from the tender spot on the back of his head. He sat up and looked at his father, challenging him silently. William stared at him for a long moment, a blank expression on his face.

"How are you feeling?" William asked, there seemed to be genuine concern in his voice and Vaughn couldn't help but laugh harshly at it.

"Where the hell am I?" He demanded, his eyes darting around the room in search of an escape route. William watched him, unconcerned. By the way he sat so casually, with no fear for what Vaughn might do to him told Vaughn that there were most likely agents outside the door prepared to take him down at a moment's notice.

"Michael, I know that you're angry." William spoke quietly and Vaughn glared at him fiercely.

"What do you want from me?" Vaughn demanded, William sighed and leaned forward, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

"Michael, you must calm yourself and listen to me. What I am about to tell you is very important."

Vaughn eyed him warily and rubbed the back of his head, "I'm listening."

"Sydney is on her way here," William began. Vaughn shot to his feet, instantly alert, fear filling his heart. 

"What? How?" He looked around the room frantically as if searching for answers that could not be found. William stood slowly and placed his hands on his son's shoulders, attempting to ease his worries. Vaughn slapped his hands away; "I will not let you hurt her." He spoke through clenched teeth, the fire rekindled in his eyes once more. "I will kill you before you touch her."

William shook his head; "I don't want to hurt Sydney, or you. I want to protect you both."

Vaughn paused in mid-motion, confusion flickering across his features. "You're making no sense."

"That's because you aren't listening to me, Michael." William was clearly reaching the end of his patience with his son. "You need to put aside your anger at me and direct it at the men who really deserve it. Sydney's life depends on it."

Vaughn sat slowly, his father's words sinking into his brain. Nothing was more important than Sydney, and their child. He had to find an end to all of this so they could escape and live in peace. That was all he wanted.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked. Vaughn calmed his whirling emotions and the tumult of his thoughts to focus on the one thing that always held him together, Sydney. He had to do whatever he could for her.

William shook his head, "That is what you don't understand, Michael. It is not what I want you to do, it is what you are destined to do."

Vaughn looked up at him with fear in his eyes, hidden beneath the strongest emotion he had. Love for a woman William Vaughn only knew by reputation.

"What is that?" His words were a low whisper, as if he did not want to know the answer.

William took a deep breath and stared deep into his son's eyes, struggling to portray the import of his next words. "You must activate the Telling machine."

Vaughn frowned, those familiar wrinkles creasing his forehead as he did so. "I don't understand."

"The Telling machine is one of Rambaldi's most important devices. Both Irina Derevko and Arvin Sloane spent the better part of thirty years collecting artifacts that would assemble this machine. Sloane activated it for the first time six months ago, what he discovered led to the fracture within the Covenant." William frowned, a dark expression on his face and Vaughn listened intently. 

"Sloane has been unreasonable since the day I first met him, but after he activated the Telling, he became almost a different person. He was colder, more ruthless. He was the one who kidnapped Sydney, a woman whom he referred to as lovingly as he would his own daughter. He kidnapped her and did terrible things to her," William shuddered slightly and Vaughn was surprised by the emotion in his voice. 

"You must understand, Michael, if I could have saved Sydney, I would have. Sloane wanted her to work for him, he believed that she was the chosen one that Rambaldi prophesied at the end of his life, as do I. He wanted to keep her from her destiny at all costs. He tried to mold her into a different person but he could not. Sydney is far too strong for Sloane to handle, you know this better than I."

Vaughn nodded slowly, anger burning in his heart at the thought of all Sloane had put Sydney through over the years. One thing nagged at the back of his thoughts and he found himself voicing it aloud almost without thinking.

"What is the Telling machine?" Vaughn looked up to meet his father's eyes, searching for some truth in the words he spoke. "What does it do?"

William sighed and leaned back in the chair, "The Telling machine was the last mystery that Rambaldi left. You must realize this, by the end of his life, Rambaldi had a final vision of all the terrible things his work would bring about. He realized that he must do something to end the suffering his work would cause. It was then that he wrote the prophecies about you and Sydney, he created the Telling as a failsafe. You and Sydney must activate the Telling, and in doing so you will destroy all of the dangerous Rambaldi artifacts. When Sloane activated the device, he received a message of some sort. He was not the chosen ones, the machine did not work for him the way he thought it would."

Vaughn studied his father carefully; "There is something that you're not telling me."

William nodded, "The Telling machine shows a person their innermost desires and how they can achieve them. In a way, it tells a person all of the paths their lives might take; inevitably it will show a person the path that their life will take, what they are destined to do. Any individual who activates the machine will receive this message, but only the chosen ones can handle the responsibility. I do not know what Sloane saw but I am certain that whatever it was drove him slightly insane."

Vaughn scoffed, "Slightly?"

William shook his head, "Sloane is trying to alter his life course and in doing so, he is trying to alter the life course of every person he has ever affected in some way. This includes Sydney, and you."

Vaughn lowered his head into his hands, allowing his father's words to wash over him and sink into his brain. It was hard to grasp but he had seen so much that he knew better than to question the validity of any of this.

"Thirty years ago, I found the Telling machine," Vaughn's head lifted in surprise at the words that came from his father now. William appeared sorrowful and Vaughn studied him warily.

"When I first found the painting, and the prophecy. It was hidden with the Telling machine in its completed state. I activated the device and I saw my life's path," William appeared on the verge of tears, his voice was thick with them and Vaughn found himself leaning forward to lay a comforting hand across his father's own.

"I saw that my life was not destined to be a father, or a husband, or a CIA agent. I was meant to be the father of one of the chosen two. I was meant to be a protector of Rambaldi's works, guarding the secrets with my life until the day came for you to bear the responsibility." Vaughn could see the heavy burden that had lain on his father's shoulders for all these long years. He understood now what William had meant when he had told him that he was only trying to protect him.

"The Telling destroyed my life. I knew that I could never go back to the CIA after what I had learned. So after I convinced Irina to spare my life, I hid the prophecy and scattered the pieces of the Telling across the world. When I learned that Sloane had found them and started to assemble it again, I partnered with him in hopes that I could control some of the harm he would cause. I tried to alter my life's course that the Telling had shown me by involving myself directly with Sloane. The results were disastrous, Sydney was taken and everything spiraled out of control." William shook his head in regret and met Vaughn's gaze steadily. "It is time for me to give up the burden and pass it on to you. You are ready."

Vaughn stared at his father in silence, unsure of how to react to all of this. It was too much; the very idea of it overwhelmed him. It all seemed too fantastical for him to come to grips with, but he could not help but believe it.

"What will happen if I don't activate the Telling?" Vaughn asked slowly. "If I just leave now and never look back on it."

William bit his lip, and "Then Sloane wins. He will learn how to control the Rambaldi artifacts and with them, he will bear a power greater than anything the world has ever known. You have seen the effects of some of these devices, weapons that can burn a person alive from the inside out. Imagine what Sloane would be capable of, he will not stop with crime. He will not be satisfied until he can control the world. That's the kind of ambitions a man like Arvin Sloane has. You and Sydney will never be safe, he knows that Sydney is the chosen one, what he does not know is that you have also been chosen. He does not know about the child that Sydney is carrying."

Vaughn's eyes hardened, fear gripping his heart. "How do you know about that?"

William smiled sadly; "I have seen it."

Vaughn swallowed hard, a part of him was giddy with relief at the idea that Sydney's child really was his. If his father had seen it in the Telling, then this child really was the one foretold by Rambaldi's prophecy. The pieces were falling into place.

"I will do it," the words spilled from Vaughn's lips before he was even aware of the decision. It was as if the decision had been made long ago and he was only now coming to realize it. "No harm will come to Sydney or our child if I can prevent it."

William shifted slightly in his seat; "There is more, Michael."

"How much more can there be?" Vaughn frowned.

"You cannot activate the Telling without Sydney. What I saw was clear; the Telling must be activated by both of you together after Sydney has conceived your child. However, the device is currently in Sloane's possession at Covenant headquarters. It is far too dangerous to send Sydney back into Covenant facilities so soon after her escape, especially in her state." Vaughn nodded in agreement with his father's words, he could not bear to think of any harm coming to her or their child.

"You're telling me that I have to go into Covenant headquarters and retrieve the most important Rambaldi device ever created and leave without a scratch on me?" Vaughn frowned and shook his head; "It's impossible."

"Not impossible, you will come with me to the Covenant headquarters. Sloane and I may have had our disagreements but he will see me."

"Why would he agree to see you?" Vaughn asked. William lifted the prophecy out of the box and smiled.

"Because I have the missing link, the last Rambaldi prophecy."

"You're going to give him the prophecy?" Vaughn frowned and shook his head; "You'll be delivering me straight into Sloane's hands."

"No, you will go to the storage room where Sloane keeps his Rambaldi artifacts. Once you are there you must activate one of the devices that has been designed specifically to kill everyone within a two mile radius who does not have our DNA."

Vaughn shook his head, "How do I know that will work? How did Rambaldi encode our DNA into a device that is five hundred years old?"

William leaned forward and clasped Vaughn's hands, "Because we are descended from Milo Rambaldi. He encoded his own DNA into the device to keep it from killing him or any of his blood."

Vaughn leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair distractedly, mulling over all the information he had just received. He had every reason in the world to doubt his father's words, to distrust what he said. But there was something inside of him that told him it was true. He was filled with a strange harmony, as if he had finally realized his life's purpose. 

"When do we leave?" He asked quietly. William smiled in relief and stood, offering his hand to his son.

"We must leave now in order to be back before Sydney gets here."

Vaughn was still for a long moment, before taking his father's hand and sealing his fate forever.

__

"You lied to me." The sound of Lauren's voice grated on Sark's nerves, he rarely broke composure but she was wearing him thin. He was a hair's breadth away from snapping her neck and leaving her on the side of the road. William had told him to distract her; to keep her from harming Sydney by keeping an eye on her but Sark wished he had been told to just kill her. It would save him the headache that had taken form the moment they met.

"Have I offended your delicate sensibilities, Ms. Reed?" Sark mocked her with a faux apologetic smile. Lauren glared at him and looked in the back seat where Sydney was watching them both intently. She was not happy to be going anywhere with her two deadliest enemies by herself but Sark had refused to allow Irina and Jack to come. William had expressly forbidden their involvement and Sark could not question him on this. His life depended on William's promise that he would bring Sloane down. Sark almost smiled at the thought that for once; he and Sydney were technically on the same side, though she did not realize it. 

"Don't mock me, Sark, I could snap your neck with two fingers." Lauren seethed, her words hissing between clenched teeth. Sark's head whipped around to glare at her, a lethal expression on his face. That was the last straw. He slammed his foot on the brakes, hearing Sydney's grunt of surprise as she lurched forward in her seat. Lauren's expression of anger changed rapidly into fear as she watched Sark root around in his pocket for something.

"What are you doing?" She asked. Sark simply glared at her, the blue eyes she had found so attractive at first now scaring her to death.

"Get out of the car," he commanded. Lauren narrowed her eyes and was prepared to protest but before she could, he had leaned across her to open the passenger door. With one hand he twisted the cap off the syringe and with the other, he shoved her out of the car.

Lauren was on her feet instantly, glaring at him as he rounded the side of the car, menacingly. Sydney was getting out of the car now and Sark cursed under his breath, he didn't need her interference.

"You are nothing but an annoyance, Ms. Reed." Lauren looked back and forth between Sark and Sydney; both were closing in on her fast. There was fear in her eyes as she realized, she could not escape. Desperately, she lunged for them, her hands reaching out to close around their throats. Sydney caught one hand, Sark caught the other and together they pushed her back onto the ground. One foot kicked out toward Sydney's stomach but she caught it easily, her own leg stretching out to kick Lauren hard in head. She slumped to the ground heavily; eyes fluttering closed in defeat. Sydney marveled at how easy it was to take down an allegedly elite Covenant assassin. Lauren had been trained well by them; Sydney had been trained better.

Sark knelt beside Lauren and injected her with the fluid in the syringe. Sydney watched him in silence before asking, "What is it?"

Sark shook his head as he stood and placed the syringe back into his pocket. "A form of anesthesia, she will be out for a couple of hours and by the time she wakes up, we'll be long gone."

Sydney studied the man beside her for a long moment; Sark looked up, feeling her eyes on him. He looked at her, unafraid and she couldn't help but wonder about him. "Why did you knock her out?"

Sark turned and slid into the car, Sydney went around the other side to slip into the passenger's seat. He seemed thoughtful for a long moment as he started the car, then answered her question.

"Sloane will not hesitate to kill me if he knows I am working to bring him down. I needed to keep Lauren under watch in order to prevent her from inflicting any further harm on you; therefore I needed to convince her that I would give you to her. Of course, my orders from Mr. Vaughn forbid me from turning you into the Covenant, I knew that I would have to be rid of her eventually but I was also forbidden to kill her." Sark shook his head and grimaced, "Plus, she really is an annoying twit."

Sydney could not help but chuckle at his words and Sark looked at her in surprise, a smile on his face. "You are right about that," she agreed with him. She shook her head, still unable to believe that Sark was actually helping her.

"Why are you doing this, Sark?" All laughter was gone from her voice now as she spoke. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and found the expression on her face to be as serious as he'd ever seen it, and filled with curiosity.

"My life changed when I met William Vaughn, my whole life I had been searching for purpose to my life. He was the one who told me the true import of the Rambaldi prophecies, for the first time I believed in something." Sark shook his head as Sydney stared at him in disbelief. Sark's eyes hardened as he recalled the day he'd fully joined William. 

"Sloane activated a Rambaldi device six months ago and it did something to him, drove him mad. He had promised me a piece of the power he sought but I got nothing. He intended me to be his lackey forever but I would not settle for that. William told me that he had a plan to bring down Sloane and that he needed my help. I saw what Sloane had become, the way his life had been destroyed by the search for the truth. I did not want to end up like him. I believe in Rambaldi and I believe that Sloane will destroy everything and everyone in his path, trying to achieve his goals. That includes me." Sark's fingers tightened on the steering wheel. "I have been a victim before, Sydney. I swore then that I would never be one again. I am sure that you know the feeling."

Sydney stared at him incredulously; she had never known Sark to be capable of emotions such as regret or nobility. She had never thought he was capable of honesty, but every word he spoke seemed to ring with truth.

"Are you telling me that for once, we are on the same side?" Sydney's eyes were wide with disbelief and Sark almost laughed when he looked over at her. 

"Is it really that hard to believe, Sydney? I'm really not all bad beneath the surface." 

Sydney shook her head slowly, "How do I know that you're telling the truth, Sark? How do I know that you aren't returning me to the Covenant right now?"

"Why do you think I got rid of Lauren? I knew that you wouldn't believe a word of what I told you until I did something that would prove myself to you. It was the only thing I could think of."

Sydney frowned and shook her head, "A lot has happened in six months," she muttered. "I don't even know how you got out of CIA custody after Vaughn and I captured you in Stockholm."

Sark smiled at her, "Now, Sydney. I can't reveal all of my secrets at once."

Sydney simply stared at him; it was as if the whole world had been flipped upside down and inside out. Bad guys had become good guys and the dead was returning to life. She had nothing left to do but maintain her blind faith that she and Vaughn would be together again when they reached the end of the road.

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	17. The Dire Price

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Chapter Seventeen:

The Dire Price

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"I don't like this one bit," Irina's words were clipped with a tense edge. Jack glanced at her from the driver's seat of the car, the small hand held computer blinked faintly at him but he ignored it. The tracking device on Sark's car was working, but they couldn't follow too closely behind.

"Neither do I," Jack commented, shutting off the computer. He reached out one hand to stroke his wife's hair and she smiled at him faintly. Her eyes were dark with concern, the same he felt for their daughter.

"Do you have any idea what William is planning?" He asked, Irina knew more about the Rambaldi artifacts than Jack did. He could not fathom how all of this might tie together but the prospects were frightening.

Irina bit her lip and slumped back in the seat, the set of her shoulders was tense, she seemed coiled and tensed to spring. "William wants to bring down Sloane, I'm sure of that." Irina was lost in her thoughts and Jack watched her quietly, recognizing her pattern of thinking. If anyone could figure out this situation, it was her.

"We should call Vaughn," Jack said, his words filled with a tense fear. Irina shook her head, "No, he doesn't even know the cell phone is on him and if I call him now, William will know that it is me. I cannot call him when he is still in the presence of William, I must analyze the prophecy closer and try to determine what William is planning." Irina sighed and turned her head to gaze out the window. Jack knew that she saw nothing beyond the glass that reflected her own dark eyes as she struggled to figure out the situation at hand.

"The prophecy says that with their union, Sydney and Vaughn will be able to wield a power great enough to destroy Rambaldi's work. The only power I can think of that could do such a thing is in Sloane's possesion." Irina's eyes widened and she straightened in her seat, her gaze fixed intently on something Jack could not see. 

"Oh, God. The Telling," Irina breathed heavily, her eyes landing on Jack with sudden intensity. 

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked with growing concern. He frowned as he watched the way her hands fluttered nervously, her normally impeccable composure had vanished.

"The Telling machine was the device I was helping Sloane assemble. Six months ago he activated it and the results were disastrous. Sloane saw something he did not want to see. The Telling machine reveals the darkest corners of a man's soul," Irina shook her head. "It's very dangerous."

Jack gazed at her for a long time, "How dangerous?"

"We need to get to Sydney and Vaughn as soon as possible, they are trusting their lives to a very dangerous man."

Without another word, Jack started the car. The wheels spun up dirt in a cloud that lingered far after they had gone.

__

The Covenant compound was a huge sprawling building that sat deep in the woods of England. Vaughn had accompanied his father here on a private jet from his office in Ireland, they had landed on a private air strip within the compound. William still had access to every area of the building, including the storage room. Vaughn felt the key card burning in his pocket, the one that would allow him access to the storage room.

The two of them sat in the plane as it landed, staring at one another in silence. William exuded an air of confidence which Vaughn tried to maintain, but there was a sinking unease in his heart. Black tendrils of fear crept over his heart like ivy over stone. 

William leaned forward, "When I leave the plane, Sloane will be waiting for me. You must wait five minutes until we are clear of the landing strip and then go. The storage room is in a vault underground, on the basement level. It is very heavily guarded but all you need to do is show them this card and they will let you through. They know better than to question my authority, luckily most of the guards are in my pocket but if you meet with any resistance, do not hesitate to kill them because they will most certainly kill you, given the chance."

Vaughn nodded, his eyes scanning a blueprint of the compound, rapidly memorizing the area where he needed to go. "Where will you be?"

William pointed at an area of the blueprint, two floors above the storage room. "I will be in Sloane's office. It is on the third floor but you musn't come looking for me, when you have activated the Rambaldi device and retrieved the Telling machine, you must come back to the plane and meet me here. Michael," William gripped Vaughn's hand and he looked up to meet his father's eyes. "If I do not meet you within five minutes, you must leave without me."

Vaughn frowned and shook his head, "No. I'm not leaving without you, dad."

"You must," William's grip on Vaughn's hand tightened to almost painful intensity. "We are at the final steps of the journey, Michael, you cannot fail. You must activate the Rambaldi device and bring the Telling machine to Sydney. Do you understand me?" 

Vaughn stared at his father for a long moment, conflicting emotions whirling in his heart. He had developed a strong attachment to the memory of his dead father for years, William Vaughn had been a role model for him. A perfect husband and father and now he realized, his father was only human. The love he still felt for his father burned deep in his heart and could not be extinguished easily, even with the distrust he had developed in the past twenty four hours of this new man that was his father. He could not imagine losing him now after just finding him again. Then he thought of Sydney, and all other emotions fell away but the deep love and devotion he felt for her. As much as he loved his father, he could not risk losing her. William was right.

"I understand," Vaughn squeezed his father's hand and smiled sadly. "Dad."

"Good," William stood up and looked out of the window on the plane. He could see Sloane approaching the plane in the distance. William glanced at Vaughn and nodded, "It's time."

Vaughn stepped back into the shadows of the plane, watching through the window as his father disembarked and greeted Sloane. The two men embraced briefly, like old friends reuniting, and Vaughn tried to quell the fear that his father might be leading him into a trap. The sight of Arvin Sloane sparked a fierce flame inside of Vaughn that had been burning for a long time. This man had destroyed Sydney's life so many times. Vaughn swallowed a wave of disgust and calmed himself, Sloane would pay soon enough.

He watched as William slung one arm around Sloane's shoulders and led him toward the compound. Vaughn waited for the guards to clear the area, checking his watch he counted down the minutes until he could make his escape from the plane.

Vaughn glanced out the window, checking his gun at his side and securing his long leather jacket over the holster. The guards were gone, making their rounds on the other side of the compound, Vaughn took the opportunity to slip out of the plane.

Staying well concealed within the shadows of the waning sun, Vaughn followed the course he had plotted out on the plane. The storage room was two levels down, two rights, one left, at the end of a long hallway. Crouching low in the shadows, he scanned the area for the door that would lead him to the underground level.

He merged with the shadows, hugging the wall as he stealthily crept along the wall to the door on the opposite end of the platform. Pulling the keycard from his pocket, he slid it through the lock and waited with baited breath for the light to change from red to green. His heart jumped in his chest as the light flickered for an instant, before changing. The door clicked open and Vaughn breathed a sigh of relief, slipping inside. 

The hallway was brightly lit, white light reverberating off the walls, it led deep underground, fading into black in the distance. The silence was almost solid, broken only by the sound of his breathing and the echo of his footsteps as he moved cautiously through the hall. The walls were smooth and bare, Vaughn allowed his fingers to trail lightly across them as he moved deeper underground. 

There were guards at the end of the hallway, he could see a glint of metal reflecting off their guns. They watched him in silence as he approached, his hands raised in front of him. 

"What are you doing down here?" One of them barked out the question tensely. Vaughn retrieved the keycard from his pocket.

"I'm under orders from William Vaughn. I must be let into the vault."

The guards tensed, guns coming to rest level with Vaughn's chest. Vaughn halted just before them, watching as they exchanged nervous glances. Without waiting for any further movement, Vaughn launched himself at them. He gripped the ends of their rifles, pushing the ends into their chests as he did so. They collapsed with a grunt against the wall and Vaughn pulled out his gun, slamming the end into their heads. He heard the sickening crack of a metal against bone and the guards collapsed silently into a heap at his feet. 

Wasting no more time, Vaughn broke into a run. He sped down the corridor, taking down every guard he saw in silence and stealth. He could no longer see the bright hallway, the way the guards slumped to the floor when he took them down. His eyes were bright with exertion, he could only see Sydney, naked, bleeding, her skin sliced open, the blood dripping like the sweat that beaded on his forehead. Any of these men could have had their turns violating her, he focused his strength on every single one of them. Their cries of pain, their shortened breaths were lost beneath the roaring in his ears. He could only hear Sydney's broken sobs, her voice calling his name. 

At last he stood before the door to the vault, breathing heavily, a pile of unconscious guards at his feet. He was not sure if he had killed any of them but felt no remorse if he had. He could feel the sweat grow cold on his skin, the blood drying on his hands. The door was nondescript, a plain black portal but to Vaughn it seemed to be every door that he had opened in his life. The door was a choice that he had made long ago. His eyes cleared and the brightness of the hall around him seemed to vanish into the black paint on the door. It was like a black hole, sucking all the light around it into the depths of the darkness. It called Vaughn forward, his hand reaching up to touch the smooth surface. His hands were stained with blood and he was unsure how much of it was his own. 

He realized for the first time, that he could enter this door and never walk back out. He could die in here, alone, without Sydney. His father could be lying, the device might not work, there were a thousand worse case scenarios that ran through his head and through it all, his driving force was the thought of her. They had fooled death so many times, it only took one mistake for the shadow to catch up with them. He gripped the keycard tightly in his hand and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He could hear her voice lingering in the back of his thoughts, he whispered to her aloud, repeating her words of only a few days earlier.

"No matter what happens, death itself cannot keep us apart. We always find our way back to one another." 

His palm was splayed flat against the door and he heard a soft click, the door giving way against the force of his hand. He uttered a soft prayer to Sydney in case he did not get out of here alive, and entered the vault.

__

"I have to admit, William, I was quite surprised to receive your call." Arvin Sloane leaned back casually in his chair. William stood before him, the large mahogany desk was the only thing between him and Sloane. He had to resist the urge to throttle the man with his bare hands, he had to give Michael time to activate the Rambaldi device. 

"Though, as surprised as I was, I was also quite pleased. You have always been a good partner and a friend, William." Sloane stood and his eyes flickered to the briefcase William held. "I know that we have had our disagreements but we share a common interest in Rambaldi. I am coming to an end of a journey, William. I am glad that you are here to share it with me." Sloane gestured to the briefcase, "Please, I am intrigued by what you have to show me."

William tensed, his eyes flickering to the guards hidden in the shadows of the room. Sloane smiled faintly and with a flick of his wrist, dismissed the guards from the room. William relaxed visibly when they had gone and took the seat Sloane offered him. The two of them sat facing each other in comfortable leather armchairs, a low table set between them. A window on one side displayed the forest outside, it seemed dark and menacing as the shadows of evening dipped down lower than the tree branches. William studied the world outside for a long moment, gathering his strength before turning back to Sloane.

"I too, am reaching the end of a journey, Arvin." William spoke with carefully measured words as he opened the briefcase. "Our paths met at the crossroads of our journeys and only now do we see where the path will lead us."

Sloane frowned and leaned forward, sliding his glasses onto his nose. William watched him carefully as he unfolded the prophecy. He watched with some degree of pleasure as Sloane's eyes widened in shock, flickering from William to the prophecy on the table.

"Where did you get this?" Sloane demanded, all pretense of civility was gone now. The façade had fallen away and William saw the desperation on Sloane's face, the fear. William smiled in satisfaction.

"I've had this prophecy in my possesion for the past thirty years, Arvin. You never knew and now it's too late."

Sloane looked up at William with wide eyes, "William, what have you done?"

"I have brought the sacrificial lamb to the table, Arvin. My son is in the vault as we speak, he will activate the blue cube. Soon we will all be dead."

Sloane shot to his feet, visibly shaken. "William, you can't do this! Not to your own son!"

William slammed his fist on the table, his face contorting with rage. "I would rather see my son dead than used as a pawn in your sick game. What makes you think that you can control the future, Arvin?"

"William, if you allow this to happen, you will be killing your own son! This prophecy will never come to fruition and all will come to ruin."

William stood, trembling with rage. "Rambaldi destroyed my life, Arvin! Michael will use the Rambaldi device and everyone here will be destroyed. It will be over, at long last." William's eyes were glazed with madness and Sloane shrank back, away from him. 

"William, if Michael activates the blue cube, we will all die here. What do you gain from suicide?"

William stepped closer to Sloane, madness visible in his eyes. "I know what I am doing, Arvin. Remember that I was the one who captured Sydney Bristow, you tried to change her into a different person but only I could see how the torture had failed! I was the only one who could see the end of this, Arvin, you could only see what was happening at the time." His words were rising in anger until he was shouting in Sloane's face. "I was the one who brought them together. You read the prophecy about my son, you should know that he has concieved a child with Sydney Bristow, the last chosen one. Even with Michael dead, the prophecy will be fulfilled. Their child will live to see the end of the reign of Rambaldi."

Sloane's eyes were wide with horror, he spoke in a low whisper in response to William's crazed rush of words. "Don't you understand, William? You know as much about the Rambaldi artifacts as I do, you're forgetting that the device was altered in the past century. It will not protect those with his blood, it will target all of them, including his unborn child. The heir to the Rambaldi prophecies will never be born, all your carefully wrought plans to bring them back together will be for nought."

William halted his advance on Sloane, fear creeping into the madness that veiled his thoughts. "You're lying."

"I am speaking the truth! Your will has turned to madness, William! You are destroying everything!" Sloane's words were edged with a note of hysteria now and he backed away from the other man as William advanced slowly toward him. There was a glint of madness in his eyes.

"You looked into the darkest corners of your soul when you activated the Telling, Arvin. You saw peace, when I saw only despair and destruction. This is the only way."

"There is still a matter of choice, William. Not everything is pre-determined. You can stop this before it is too late." 

"It's already too late, Arvin. Our souls are damned for what we've done. The last thing I can do is free my son from the chains of his heritage and that is what I've done." William's eyes were like dark pools of oblivion, a glimpse into insanity. He had destroyed himself with his obssesion. 

"I have made my choice."

It was then that the flames erupted.

__

Vaughn entered the vault cautiously, a sense of foreboding hung over him. The air was thick with tension, in the center of the room was a pedestal illuminated by a single light. A golden ball, roughly the size of a globe was seated on the pedestal. Vaughn's breath tangled and caught in his throat as he recognize his father's description of the Telling machine. He drew closer to it, compelled by a force greater than his own will. It shimmered before his eyes like a mirage, water to a man dying of thirst. Something broke inside of him and he blinked, struggling to focus his thoughts. Retrieving a burlap sack from the floor, he scooped the ball into it, careful not to touch the gleaming surface. He slipped the device into the backpack he carried and slung it over his shoulder, looking around the room for the second Rambaldi device his father had described. 

He found it on a shelf in the corner, a small blue box that gleamed with the same unearthly light as the Telling machine. Beside it was another box, red in color and identical to the other. He frowned and glanced between the two, his father had told him expressly the blue box was the one he wanted but he found himself drawn to the red one. His hand stretched out for it, fingers hovering above the metallic surface. There was something pulling him toward it, an unknown force that rose from the depths of his soul to transfix his thoughts. He found himself gasping for air as the world around him slowed to a stop, there was no time, no life, only his destiny hovering before his eyes. 

His cell phone rang abruptly, the shrill noise breaking the silence and snapping him free from his trance. He glanced around in confusion, he had not been aware that he still carried it. Cursing under his breath, he searched his clothes for where the phone might be hiding and found it in his jacket pocket. He frowned as it rang in his hand, it was not his cell phone, it looked distinctively like Jack's in fact.

Flipping it open, he pressed it to his ear and whispered into the reciever. "Who is this?"

"Vaughn," the sound of Irina's voice filtered urgently into his ear. Vaughn stepped back away from the boxes and frowned. 

"Irina? What the hell is going on?" He asked, confusion whirling in his mind after the tranquility of the trance he had just been in. 

"Vaughn, you must listen to me. You are in great danger."

"I know that, I'm in the vault of Covenant headquarters, I don't think I've ever been in any greater danger." He heard Irina inhale sharply at his words and he wondered what was going on.

"Vaughn, you must listen to me. I planted this phone in your coat before you left to meet William, I did not want to call you while he might be around but the danger is too great. If you do not do what I say, you will die and so will your child."

Vaughn felt his heart plummet to the floor at her words, "How do you know about the child?" He hissed, fear overtaking all other emotions. 

"Vaughn, there is a part of the prophecy I did not tell you about. It says that you will betray Sydney in your blood if you cannot pay a price."

Vaughn swallowed hard, listening intently to her words. "I would never betray Sydney."

"I know that, Vaughn. I know that you would not betray her willingly but you may do it without knowing. Listen to me closely, what are you doing in the Covenant vault?"

"My father sent me in to activate a device that will kill the members of the Covenant and leave us alive."

Irina gasped, "I was afraid of that."

Vaughn clenched his teeth and started pacing the length of floor in front of the Rambaldi devices. His eyes flickered ocassionally to the boxes and back to the floor in front of him. "What aren't you telling me, Irina?"

"Vaughn, your father has not told you everything. If you activate the wrong device, you will surely die. I have been trying to decipher the last part of the prophecy and I realized that there are two devices in that vault that are controlled by the blood of the one who activates it. Two boxes, one red and one blue."

Vaughn stopped short, staring at the boxes in front of him. "Yes," he whispered. "I am looking at them right now."

"Vaughn, one of those boxes will kill all who share your blood, including your child. The other will kill all within a two mile radius but the one who activates it. If you activate the wrong device, both you and your child will be killed."

Vaughn stared at the boxes, the feeling of foreboding that had hung over him like a cloud developed into a full blown storm. He was caught in the whirlwinds, he did not know who to trust. The lives of everyone he loved hung in the balance and someone would not survive.

"Which box will kill my child?" He whispered softly, he was dreading the answer though he knew it before it came.

"The blue one. Vaughn, which one did your father tell you activate?"

Vaughn sighed and dropped his head, all his suspicions confirmed. Tears welled up in his eyes and when he spoke, it was the voice of a broken man, defeated by powers he could not control. "The blue one."

"Vaughn! You must activate the red one or you will be dead."

The tears dripped onto the cold floor and Vaughn shook his head, "Then I will be killing my own father."

"Vaughn, your father will die no matter what decision you make. Right now, you must save yourself and your child. Do you understand me?"

Vaughn brought the phone away from his ear and closed it without answering. He could still hear Irina calling his name as he clicked it off, but in his mind it became Sydney's voice. Calling him from the dark recesses of her own soul, he could not fail her.

Pulling his pocketknife from his jacket, he flipped the blade open. His eyes were fixed on the boxes, they blurred in his vision as the tears spilled free in silent mourning. He could barely feel the blade as it dragged across his flesh, could not feel the blood welling up in the palm of his hand. He held his hand over the box and closed his eyes.

"One of us must pay the dire price, father," he whispered into the oblivion of the whirlwind that had taken hold of his heart, ensnaring his very soul. He felt his heart break apart as he pressed his hand down on the box.

The world erupted into flame, Vaughn's hands came to grip the box and he fell back on the cold floor. Crying in pain, he clutched the box tightly with both hands to his chest as he felt the agony of hundreds of men dying. Their bodies burned from the inside out, he felt his heart bursting with the rush of blood that filled him. He could see their faces imprinted on his closed eyelids. He could see the face of Sloane, staring challengingly at his father before the fire consumed him. He could see the face of his father, filled with madness and rage. The pale flames covered them all, burning with an intensity that filled Vaughn's soul. 

He curled on the floor, wracked by pain, clutching the Rambaldi device to his chest. His blood was smeared on the floor, staining his flesh. He was a broken man who lay shuddering on the floor, weeping openly for what he had lost once more.

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Sydney bolted upright from the dreamy haze of sleep, crying out with pain. Sark glanced at her in alarm before slamming on the brakes. The car lurched to a halt and Sydney bent over, her head in her hands as the wave of pain passed over her. Sark placed one hand on her shoulder, gazing down at her with concern.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his eyes wide with alarm. Sydney shook her head and opened the car door. She stumbled to the side of the road, emptying the contents of her stomach into the trees. She collapsed on the side of the road, her face wet with tears and sobs wracking her body.

"Vaughn," she moaned his name, calling out to him though she knew he could not hear. The pain came from deep in her soul, and she knew with certainty that something terrible had happened to him. She could feel his fear, she could taste his pain, his sorrow. 

Vaguely, she felt Sark kneeling beside her, cautiously rubbing her shoulder. The gesture made her cry even harder as she recalled the way Vaughn had soothed away her pain with just a simple touch. Sark's hands felt like fire, burning her flesh beneath the thin layer of clothing that protected her. She pulled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself and shaking violently. "Vaughn," his name was a broken whisper, she said it the same way she had done so in the darkness of her cell. A prayer to the god of her heart. 

Something was terribly wrong. Vaughn was in pain and Sydney could feel it, there were forces at work here greater than any she could imagine. The prophecy was unfolding beneath her feet, linking the two of them closer together than before. 

Closing her eyes, Sydney prayed to him, urging him to stay strong. She would be with him soon, she could feel it. They had come now to the end of the road, there was no turning back from here.

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Vaughn stumbled through the compound blindly, searching for Sloane's office. All around him, men were screaming in pain, the smell of burning flesh smothered him and the smoke hung thick in the air. He dodged the flailing arms of a burning man that fell to the floor in front of him and continued running through the building. 

He found the office soon enough, the door rose up before him out of the smoke and the flames and he gasped in relief. Shoving his weight against the door, he stumbled and fell to the floor as it opened easily beneath him.

There was no one inside, only two smoking piles of ash on the floor. The prophecy was cast aside on the floor, smoldering faintly at the edges where the flames had caught it. Vaughn collapsed on his knees before the ashes of his father. Hanging his head, a broken sob erupted from his throat and he dug his hands into the ashes. A guttural moan escaped his throat as he watched the ash sift through his fingers, the same way the ashes he had believed were Sydney's had floated so easily away from his hands. He pressed his hands to his head, rocking back on his heels as he turned his face to the sky. His hands were stained with blood and ash, the sky seemed to break above him, the pieces falling down to land at his feet. The pain he felt now was internal anguish, guilt and shame for what he had done. He had paid the price in full, he had sacrificed hundreds of people in order to save himself and Sydney. He wondered vaguely how many of those men had been innocent, who had never known the force of evil that they had been working for. He wondered if his father had ever been trying to help him or merely destroy him. He had no answers.

Bowing his head into his hands, he collapsed face first into the pile of ash, the last remnants of William Vaughn that remained. He wept openly like the child who had learned of his father's death at the hands of unknown traitor. He had only himself to blame now. He rocked back and forth slowly, his head banging against the floor through the filth. The sounds of his cries echoed off the empty walls, the dying screams had faded, the crackling of the flames was dying and he was the only survivor of this bloody massacre. A slaughter by his own hand. 

Michael Vaughn had collapsed, he felt the sutures begin to rip, the world was tearing apart at the seams. The carefully stitched fabric of his existance, that had only just been repaired by Sydney's gentle hand, was tearing free. He knew nothing but anguish as he pounded his fists against the floor, crying to the heavens until his throat was raw. He was a broken man, once more. The world outside was grey and silent and Michael Vaughn was alone, with his grief.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

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	18. Between Darkness and Wonder

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Chapter Eighteen:

Between Darkness and Wonder

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It was the dark before dawn, when the world was quiet and nothing stirred in the world outside. Mist hung thick over the hills, a light rain falling gently in a wispy curtain that veiled the ground. It seemed as if the world was in mourning for things lost and forgotten. 

Sydney arrived at the safehouse, cloaked by the shadows of the night. The big house was dark and her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of it. She shoved past Sark in a rush to get to the front door; he followed her slowly with a cautious step.

The silence of the night was broken by her cries for a man who could not hear her voice, "Vaughn!" Her pleas were lost in the emptiness of the big house. She turned on Sark, anger flashing in her eyes, suspicion filling her.

"Where is he?" She demanded, Sark stepped away from her, hands up, pleading innocence. 

"I don't know, I was told that they would both be here by the time we arrived." Sark frowned as he glanced around the darkened hallway. Sydney grabbed him and slammed him back against the wall, the force of her anger giving her a rush of adrenaline in the late hour. 

"Are you setting us up, Sark?" Her words were like daggers that sliced his flesh and he flinched beneath the force of her blow. With a heavy sigh, he removed her hands from him and shook his head.

"Sydney, you really must calm yourself. I did precisely what I was ordered to do, I brought you here. William and your precious Vaughn should be back shortly. I must leave you here and return to the Covenant headquarters before the price on my head gets any higher."

Sydney stepped away from him and her glare lessened somewhat in its intensity. She did not necessarily enjoy Sark's presence, but she didn't know if she wanted to be left alone in this place. Sark saw her hesitation and softened slightly.

"If it helps to ease your conscience at all, you should know that your parents have been tracking my car since the moment we left their sight. They should be here within a few hours and until then, I think that you can handle yourself."

Sydney returned the full force of her glare back on him and Sark recoiled from her slightly. "Thank you so much for the reassurance that I can handle myself, Sark." 

Sark shook his head with a bemused smile and took a step toward the door; "You know it better than I." He frowned and glanced back at her from the doorway, "You'll be okay right?"

Sydney scoffed, "I'll be fine. You just make sure you contact me if you discover anything about Vaughn before I do, you understand me?" She stood before him; hands on hips, an imposing figure cut from the shadows. Sark grinned and bowed slightly.

"Of course, Madame."

Sydney muttered something under her breath but it was lost in the sound of the door snapping shut behind her. She took a deep breath and calmed her troubled soul. First she needed to look around the house, find some evidence that Vaughn had been there. Then she would try to call her father and see if he had any answers for her.

She was making her way into the kitchen when she heard a noise at the rear of the house. Tensing immediately, she felt her gun slide into her hand from its holster without consciously reaching for it. Hugging the wall, she crept through the shadows to investigate the noise. It came again, louder this time, a crash as if someone had collapsed. Her brow furrowed in concern and she peered cautiously around the edge of the wall. 

Her eyes landed on Vaughn, collapsed on the floor. He was crouched on his knees, forehead pressed to the cold linoleum. The back door was hanging open, wind whistling through the opening. Vaughn was rocking back and forth slowly, his hands clasped over his head. Faintly, she could detect a low moaning sound emanating from his throat as if he was in great pain.

Her heart sank in her chest at the sight of him, fresh agony ripping free of the sutures in her soul. Tears welled up in her eyes and she approached him slowly, feeling her love for him grow to consume her with every step.

"Vaughn," her voice was barely audible above a whisper as she crouched beside him but he heard her. His head snapped up and she swallowed hard at the sight of his dirty face, stained with blood, dirt and something that looked a lot like soot. What scared her most was the expression on his face, the agony in his eyes. It was there as if it had been permanently etched into his flesh, but the expression vanished as soon as his eyes landed on her. The agony melted into a deep sorrow and she could see love in his eyes, shining out at her.

"Oh God, Sydney." He fell against her, his arms encircling her tightly as he sobbed against her breast. Sydney felt her heart breaking into shards that stabbed her soul like glass. Her heart was gripped by the raw intensity of his pain and she swallowed her tears, pulling him into her arms and rocking gently. Her hands rubbed his back soothingly in a circular motion and she planted kisses on every exposed inch of flesh. His sobs wracked his entire frame, his weight falling heavily against her. The intensity of it scared her; she had never seen Vaughn this lost. 

She stroked his hair gently and murmured soothing words into his ear. His throat had been scraped raw by his tears. She could hear it in the husky, broken tone in which he had spoken her name. Her own tears spilled forth, mingling with his. She could not contain her grief over the state of this broken man whom she loved so desperately.

"Vaughn," she whispered his name softly, attempting to stir him from his daze of grief. He looked up at the sound of her voice and she struggled to swallow her tears in order to speak.

"What happened?" She asked gently. He stared up at her with glazed eyes and shuddered, his gaze turning inward. 

"They're all dead," he whispered. His voice was hollow, he could not bring himself to feel any more emotion than that which already gripped him so strongly. Sydney frowned, fear mixing with concern in her heart and she touched his face lightly.

"Who?"

Vaughn shook his head and gazed at her, his eyes clearing slightly. He reached up to stroke her hair gently and pulled himself up to a sitting position. They switched roles suddenly as he pulled her into his arms and buried his face in her hair.

"The Covenant," the words were muffled by his lips in her hair but she heard him nonetheless. He pulled back to lean his forehead against her's and she looked up at him. His eyes were large and wet, his voice shaking as he struggled to maintain control over himself.

"I killed every last one of them with a Rambaldi device. Everyone in the building went down in flames. I was the only one left standing." He shook his head; his gaze fixed on an image she could not see. 

"Oh, Vaughn," Sydney pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth tenderly. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she contemplated the import of this. 

"I had to do it, Sydney." Vaughn's voice was desperate suddenly, filled with guilt. He seemed to be pleading for understanding but she knew that it was more likely from himself, than from her. He pulled back and stared deep into her eyes, those green orbs whirling with a storm of emotion. 

"I had to make a choice and I couldn't let them hurt you," his voice broke and his hand dropped down to touch her stomach gently. "I couldn't let them hurt either of you."

Sydney shook her head, slightly confused, but she knew that whatever Vaughn had done had been for the right reasons. "I know, baby. It's okay, we're fine." She pressed a kiss against his closed eyelids, another on the nape of his neck and smiled at him. "Everything is going to be okay."

Vaughn looked at her for a long time. She thought that she could see him beginning to release the pain, but it flared back up just as suddenly in his eyes and he forced himself to look away from her. When he spoke again, it was in a clear voice that surprised her. All dizzying emotion was gone, all incoherence and confusion had vanished and he spoke calmly.

"I killed my father, Sydney," his voice did not break; his words did not falter. It was one thing he was certain of in the mess of what had occurred that night.

Her eyes widened at his words and he could not meet her gaze. Gently, she stroked the side of her face with the palm of her hand, easing his eyes toward her.

"I don't know what is true anymore. I kept thinking the whole time that I had to be strong for you, and now here I am." He laughed at himself, bitterness filling the sound. "A mess on the kitchen floor and not even drunk. I need you to hold me up because I can't even do it myself."

Sydney gripped his arms and shook her head, "Yes you can. Don't tell me that you are suddenly weak because you hate what you've done. I know you better than that, Michael Vaughn. I know you are stronger than this."

He looked up at her with wide eyes and for the first time, all sorrow drained from his face, replaced with a look she had grown familiar with. An expression of pure love. He drew her close to him and kissed her gently, his cracked lips breaking against hers like the tide coming into shore. She wrapped her arms around him and lost herself in him, breathing into him and inhaling the pain. 

She pulled away slightly, still sharing his breath and met his eyes. "We should get off this floor and get you cleaned up." He glanced down at himself, an expression of disgust wrinkling his forehead. Blood smeared his clothes, the fabric had been burned away at parts and he was covered in soot. The ash of his father's body. He forced his eyes back to Sydney's and nodded. She snaked an arm under his shoulders and helped him to stand.

"Wait, there's something else," he gestured to the bag on the floor and Sydney knelt to pick it up. Vaughn took the bag from her, clasping it to him protectively. She frowned and glanced from the bag to his face, questions written in her eyes.

"There is a Rambaldi device in here," he explained. "The Telling machine. It's the last piece of the puzzle."

Sydney nodded gently and took the bag from him, slinging it over her shoulder. "The puzzle can wait, Vaughn. You are in no state to undergo any further mental exhaustion."

He nodded wordlessly and allowed her to slip her arm back around him, they moved together from the dark shadows of the kitchen and up the stairs. Vaughn halted in the stairwell, his eyes fixed on something on the wall. Sydney looked up and was greeted by a small photograph that hung framed on the wall; she recognized Vaughn's mother and a man that looked very much like Vaughn himself, their arms wrapped around a small child. Vaughn sighed heavily and stepped forward, hands pressed against the glass. 

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. His face fell and Sydney wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing the curve of his neck softly. He reached over to hug her gently and then removed the picture from the wall, clutching it to his chest. Turning back to her, he nodded and blinked away the fresh tears that burned his eyes. 

They found a bedroom at the top of the stairs; a large room with a four poster bed and paintings hung on the walls. The color made Vaughn dizzy after the gray veil of mourning that hung over him. They crossed the room and Vaughn stopped to set the photograph down gently on the bedside table. He kissed his fingers and pressed them against the glass, before forcing his eyes away and back to Sydney. 

Sydney helped him to the bed where he sat heavily, looking up at her. She kissed him softly and gripped his shirt in both hands, easing it over his head. She did the same with his pants and soon he sat naked before her, arms wrapped tightly around his chest. He was shivering though the room was quite warm. Sydney slid her own clothes off and wrapped herself around him. The weight of her skin against his halted the trembling and he breathed a sigh of relief that she was here with him, unharmed. 

"I was so scared," she admitted. Vaughn turned his head to nuzzle her neck softly and she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling. He breathed against her skin, raising goosebumps where the whisper trailed across her flesh. 

"You don't have to be scared anymore," he whispered in between kisses. Sydney's eyes flickered open and he saw a flash of pain hidden deep in the dark depths of her eyes. Her hand caressed his face, smoothing over the sticky blood and the ash. She pulled out of his grasp and stood before him, one hand outstretched in invitation. He accepted, his hand sliding into her's as if it had never left. They crossed the room together and Sydney pushed open another door to reveal a large bathroom. He glanced at her gratefully and together they slipped inside, turning the water on full blast.

Vaughn winced as the pressure of the water struck his fresh bruises and wounds but the touch of Sydney's hand on his skin eased it away. He met her gaze and wordlessly, she retrieved a washcloth from the door and lathered it up with soap. He closed his eyes and felt her smooth it across his face, washing away the blood and ash. She did the same for the rest of his body, easing it over the broken flesh, wounds he had not even realized he had. He had been so fixated, so driven by the thought of her that he had barely noticed his own physical pain.

She planted soothing kisses on every wound, every bruise. His collarbone, where a violent bruise was forming, blue and black beneath the pale flesh. His chest, where an ugly wound gaped open, blood seeping out slowly. His hands, that were burned by hot ash and pale fire. Finally she placed another kiss on his chest, over the steady pulse of his heart, where the wound was deepest and hidden inside. 

He wrapped his arms around her, letting the hot water cascade over them. Stroking her hair gently, he pressed her to him, wanting nothing more than to feel her breathing, heart beating against him. He breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet scent of her skin as she buried her face into his slick skin. She planted kisses along the curve of his neck and whispered softly, her words lost beneath the roar of the water and the beating of his heart.

"Oh, my Vaughn," Sydney tilted her head up to meet his eyes and gently wiped away the tears that mingled with the hot water on his face. She smiled sadly and tightened her grip on him. "I wish that I could wash it all away."

He shook his head and kissed her softly, "The blood on my hands will wash away." He opened his hands, palms up to the water; she took them in her's and kissed the palm of each hand tenderly. 

"The ash of my father's burned body will wash away," he glanced down at the swirling water at their feet. The last remnants of filth was spinning down the drain, tangled with hot water and tears. Sydney winced slightly at the thought and kissed him again.

"The memories will not wash away so easily," he whispered. "The pain." He smiled at her and sighed. "You are the only one who can wash away my pain."

She smiled back at him, her vision blurring with tears. He was always so strong, even when she was comforting him; he had words that would soothe her own pain. They were both standing stones to one another, pillars of strength that the other could lean on when needed. She had no idea what she would have done if he had died out there; she drew from his strength as much as he drew from her. In his eyes, she could practically read the summary of events that had occurred out in the wilderness, where men had fallen at his feet in flames and he had been the only one breathing in a matter of moments. A lone survivor of a holocaust of his own creation.

"What happened out there, Vaughn?" Her voice was filled with concern and a note of hesitation, she would understand if he could not yet speak about it but he knew he could not hide it from her.

"My father betrayed me," his eyes darkened with the memory and she watched him carefully, her hands stroking his back soothingly. "We went into Covenant headquarters, he was supposed to distract Sloane while I retrieved the Telling machine. In order to get out of there alive, I was supposed to activate a Rambaldi device that he told me would kill anyone who did not have our DNA, Rambaldi DNA."

Sydney's eyes widened at this admission, "What?"

He nodded, "Evidently, I am descended from Rambaldi on my father's side. Or so he told me, it could have been a lie because there was no such device. There was one that would kill anyone with our DNA," his hand trailed down to caress her stomach softly and his eyes hardened. "Including our child." Sydney smothered a gasp of fear; she had come so close to losing both him and their child. He met her eyes and she saw the pain written there in volumes. 

"There were two boxes, red and blue. My father had told me to activate the blue one but before I could, I received a phone call." He laughed softly and shook his head in disbelief. Sydney frowned.

"Where did you get a phone?"

"Your mother planted it on me before I went to meet my father and it's a damn good thing she did too. There was a part of the prophecy which she had failed to tell us that said I would betray you in my blood," he sighed and his face fell. "I would betray you if I could not pay the dire price."

"What was the price?" Sydney asked softly, unsure if she wanted to hear the answer. 

"My father's life. Your mother told me what the boxes really did. She told me to activate the red one, which would kill everyone within a two-mile radius except for me, the one who had activated it. She saved my life." He swallowed hard and looked back up at her, her gentle face that absorbed his words without judgement. 

"What made you choose to trust her over your own father?" She was surprised that he had listened to her parent in place of his own. He frowned and thought for a moment before answering.

"In the end, I trusted my own instinct. I did not fully trust my father, though I still loved him. I was compelled to activate the red one and in the end, I knew that he would die no matter what choice I made. So I chose you." He smiled softly, pushing away the pain that stirred within him. Sydney's eyes were wet with tears now and she hugged him close to her.

"What do we need the Telling machine for?" She asked, after clearing her throat from the lump that had risen inside. 

"He told me that you and I would have to activate it and in doing so, it would destroy all the Rambaldi artifacts. And just maybe, it will end this nightmare that has destroyed our dreams for so long." He sighed softly, "I suppose that we should do that. For some reason, I believe he was speaking the truth when he told me that, it fits with the prophecies. Or maybe I'm just hoping that we can finally end it all."

Sydney shook her head, "The Covenant is gone now, Vaughn. No one will try to use any more Rambaldi artifacts within the next few hours, it can wait." He nodded at her words, grateful to her for speaking them. He had already felt the power of one Rambaldi artifact tonight, he was not so eager to test another.

"You saved my life out there, Syd." Her brow furrowed as she gazed at him and he could not help but smile. "The thought of you kept me going. When the world was upside down and inside out, you were all I knew. You were my only source of strength."

She cupped his face with her hands and brought him to her, kissing him passionately. "I love you so much," she whispered. She pressed against his slick skin and felt him harden beneath the touch. She smiled against his lips and felt a rumbling of laughter rise from his throat. Without breaking contact, she fumbled behind him and turned the water off. Taking her cue, Vaughn swept her into his arms and carried her from the bathroom, his lips fixed on her's the entire time.

He settled her down gently on the bed, grabbing a towel off the bathroom door and drying her damp flesh with a gentle touch. She watched him with a smile that warmed his heart every time he glanced up to meet her eyes. She reached down to take the towel from his hand and sat up, stroking his flesh with the rough cloth of the towel. He shivered beneath her touch, this time from pleasure instead of pain. She grinned and discarded the towel to the floor, beside their dirty clothes. He covered her body with his own, enfolding her into his heated flesh. She yielded beneath him willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his lips to her.

He trailed kisses along the length of her body the way she had done for him moments earlier, disregarding the scars that marred her perfect flesh. He kissed her neck gently, easing his way down to her chest. His lips left faint imprints on her skin that faded quickly but she could still feel them burning her with their beauty, marking her for his own. 

He kissed the curve of her breast lightly, her breath tangling in her throat at the sensation. His lips grazed over one nipple that cried out for attention, her fingers tightened on his skin and he grinned up at her before covering her with his lips. A low moan escaped her lips and her eyes filled with tears at the gentle way he worshipped her body. 

His hands slid down her body, before resting on the swell of his stomach and soon his lips joined his fingers in caressing the skin there tenderly. He kissed her belly softly and framing it with his fingers, pressed his forehead against the flesh. 

"Hello in there," he murmured. Sydney laughed softly as he spoke to their unborn child. 

"Vaughn, I doubt she has ears yet." He glanced up at her with a sparkle of love in his eyes and smiled at her broadly. 

"We're having a girl now?" His voice was lined with mirth and she pulled him up to her, kissing him soundly.

"Yes, I've decided. The fetus has no choice in the matter," she giggled softly and Vaughn grinned at her, shrugging slightly. 

"I can't argue with that, I guess," Sydney smiled and slid her hands down his body, teasing him lightly. His eyes transformed quickly from amusement to intensity and she watched the way his eyelids fluttered at her touch. His hands cupped her's and bringing them to his lips; he kissed the palms of her hands gently. Sydney cupped his face with her hands and kissed him passionately, there was no more fear or pain in either of them. Together, the rest of the world melted away and there was nothing but Sydney and Vaughn, locked in a heated embrace.

She kissed his face where the tears had dried and he stroked her body with knowing fingers. His lips always returned to her own from their explorations of the rest of her body. Arching up beneath him, she gasped as he hit a sensitive spot and he grinned against her mouth. Her hands skittered lightly over the bruises and broken skin, every touch soothing the pain and igniting a fire in his flesh. The scent of her heated flesh filled him, replacing the lingering scent of smoke that hovered in his consciousness. Her whispers of love and moans of pleasure chased away the cries of those dying men and the sound of flames crackling across skin. The touch of her skin beneath his fingertips smoothed away the memory of the ash and blood that had clung to his flesh. In her arms, everything else fell away. She drove the memories out and filled him with her loving presence. 

He gasped against her mouth as her fingers circled the hard length of him, stroking gently. She arched her hips against him, almost pleadingly and he obliged her gladly. He slid into her smoothly, filling her with everything he held in his heart. The warm heat of her enveloped him and he lost himself in her, moving slowly against her. She gasped for breath and her head tilted back, allowing him to cover her neck with feverish kisses. Her eyelids fluttered and she met his eyes that were gazing at her with an intensity she had long ago become accustomed to. There were fresh tears staining his cheeks and she felt a wave of love consume her for this gentle, passionate man. She kissed him passionately, lips devouring one another, breath dancing between them. 

Vaughn could feel the tears squeezing out from his eyes but for the first time that night, they were not tears of pain or sorrow. He wept for the joy that filled him as she pushed him faster with her hips, moving against him at a faster pace. He wept not for what they had lost, but for what they had gained. An unshakable bond of love and trust, a child that grew inside of her, an end to the suffering.

Sydney met his eyes without fear; the only thing he could see in her was pure love. It was this that he fought for; the knowledge that she could unfold into his arms and not worry about who might hurt them in their vulnerable state. He watched as her face lit up with pleasure and her mouth opened, her cries of ecstasy formed words as they met his ears.

"Love you, love you, love you," she was saying. At the sound of her voice, he broke over the edge with her. Their voices mingled with pleasure, whispers of love and cries of joy. They went over the edge, catching each other as they fell. Like waves crashing on the shore, they were finally at peace together. 

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	19. The Telling

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Chapter Nineteen:  
The Telling

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Dawn was breaking over the horizon, the shadows falling back and giving way to the light. The grey veil of mist that had prevailed all throughout the night rolled back and allowed the sun to break through. Vaughn watched the colors of the early morning sky fade in through the window and land gently on Sydney's bare skin. She lay asleep, head resting on the bare skin of his chest. Vaughn could not rest, soothing himself with the sound of her steady breathing. The way it whispered across his flesh as she murmured in her sleep filtered into his heart, easing away the lingering pain that resided within.

His mind was clear, empty of all thought save for the woman who dozed so peacefully beside him. The golden rays of the morning light illuminated her skin, gilding it with a soft glow. A loving smile resided on her face and the flesh was clear of any lines of worry, wrinkles of fear. She was complete at this moment and he knew it only because she made him whole in the same way. 

His hands rested low on the small of her back, fingers stroking the soft skin lightly. Her legs were still tangled with his and he welcomed the sensation. The shape of her body seemed to have been cut from the mold to fit his exactly, every curve locking into place easily. Smiling gently down at her, he kissed her forehead softly and she murmured in her sleep. Fingers gripped his skin loosely and she curled tighter around him, whispering his name in her sleep. 

His eyes drifted around the room, watching the way the morning light covered everything with a pure golden glow. He tried not to think that only twenty four hours earlier, his father had slept in this room. He could practically feel his energy vibrating through the walls but there was no sorrow in this thought, only a calm acceptance. 

His eyes fell on the photograph he had brought upstairs with him, green orbs blazing brightly as they did so. He swallowed hard at the sight of it, the young boy smiling up at his father with such love and adoration. That boy had known nothing of the future, his mind had never lingered on betrayal or death. He had mourned his father's death once, losing his childhood in the process. He had not understood why his father had gone away, he only knew the grief that it had brought to him. Now he was a man who understood all too well why his father was gone and he could bring himself no further in his grief. He had buried the man once and continued his life without him, his father had died to him years ago. The man who had betrayed him was a stranger, his life had been destroyed by the Rambaldi prophecies. Vaughn would not let himself fall victim to the same trap that had inevitably ensnared and killed his father.

Leaning over Sydney gently, careful not to wake her, Vaughn picked up the photograph and gazed at it for a long time. He had been a member of a happy family once with loving parents, there had been no fear or pain. He resolved to give the gift of happiness, security and love to his child. He had told Sydney long ago that he would not repeat the mistakes his father had made, the words echoed in his head. They were more true now than they had been then, he would prevail. They would arise from the ashes of this broken life and build a new one together, free from the pain they had endured for so long.

Vaughn leaned his head against Sydney's and studied her sleeping face quietly. "I promise you life," he whispered his words of days earlier, lips pressed against her skin. She shifted slightly, her subconscious mind responding to the sound of his voice and he felt her lips press against his skin. Her eyes did not open, her breathing remained the same, yet she reached out for him in her sleep.

He smiled against her skin, kissing her softly. Without a second glance, he laid the photograph facedown on the table beside him and wrapped his arms around her. His chin rested gently on the top of her head and he let his eyes drift close, his mind finally at peace.

He was drifting in the twilight between sleep and awake when he heard it. The nosie registered in his unconscious mind as it hovered somewhere beyond the realm of thought. When it came again, he awoke abruply, snapping to attention. Someone was moving in the house below them. 

Vaughn glanced down at Sydney, she did not stir. Carefully, he eased out of the bed and the warm embrace of her arms. She made a small noise and shifted into the empty space he had left behind, fingers curling around the edge of the sheet like a child's. He pulled the blanket up around her and kissed her forehead softly. He fumbled for his clothes at the foot of the bed when he discovered they were still caked with blood and ash. His forehead wrinkled in disgust and he dropped the clothing like hot coals. Frowning slightly, he glanced around the room until he found a closet. His father's clothes were slightly large on him but the t-shirt and pants fit well enough. Strapping his holster on, he slipped his gun into it and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. 

There was a soft rustling that came from the foot of the stairs. Vaughn froze and it occurred to him that Irina and Jack had finally arrived and were trying to get into the house. The thought did little to assuage his fears however and he gripped his gun tightly as he made his way down the steps.

Carefully he peered around the edge of the wall, seperating the stairwell from the living room. There was no one inside. His breath flowed easier, his death grip on the gun easing slightly. Maybe it was just his overactive imagination at work, he had suffered far too much stress on too little sleep. What he really needed was to rest.

He was turning to head back up the stairs when a shadow moved behind him. He saw it flicker on the far wall, obscuring the sunlight. He spun around, gun stretched out, prepared to face whatever was coming.

Instead he found himself tumbling to his knees, a sharp pain running through his head. His mind reeled in a daze and he blinked rapidly, struggling to see through the shadows that suddenly clouded his vision. He swallowed the wave of nausea that rose up in him and looked up to meet the cold eyes of Lauren Reed.

She smiled, the sight of her face causing the nausea to rise sharply in Vaughn once more and he fought harder not to let it consume him. He glared at her fiercely for a split second, waiting for his head to clear. She crouched low in front of him, her eyes filled with a burning hatred. Vaughn recoiled from the nearness of her but her hand shot out to grip his shoulder tightly as he did so. He was too weak in his current state to resist fully, the pain still splitting his head from where her gun had struck. 

"Where is she?" Lauren shoved the gun into the hollow of his throat, the words hissed from her like a snake's poison. Vaughn spit at her and she cried out as it landed in her eye. Furiously she wiped it away and the same hand slapped so hard and so fast across his face that he barely knew it had happened until his head was cracking back.

She shook him violently, anger burning her alive. "Tell me where she is and I might let you live."

Vaughn laughed lowly, the sound rumbling from deep inside of him to spill from his lips. His laughter stabbed Lauren, cutting deeper than any blade. His mocking laughter betrayed the disgusted expression on his face.

"I will die before I allow you to lay a hand on her, you witless cow." Anger rose up in him at the thought of this woman harming Sydney and he found an inner reserve of strength hidden in his flesh. He shoved her to the floor, hands gripped tightly around her throat. The back of her head hit the floor with a sickening crack and she gasped for air. The gun flew from her grasp, skittering across the floor loudly. 

Suddenly he felt her legs coil up beneath her and kick out violently, impacting with his chest and he flew back across the room. Scrambling to her feet, Lauren dove for the gun but Vaughn recovered just as quickly. Kicking the gun away from her hands, his fist swung out and caught her in the back of the head. She cried out in rage and spun around, leg kicking out to catch his head. He caught her foot and twisted it around, her body spun and crashed loudly against the table beside the wall. 

Lauren glared at him, spitting blood from her mouth. Her face was twisted in a permanent expression of hatred and it repulsed Vaughn stronger than anything else had in recent memory. Even the sight of those men burning alive had not made him feel as ill as the sight of this woman. She was the last remnant of the Covenant though it was doubtful she had yet learned of their destruction. She represented every evil that he and Sydney faced.

She launched herself at him suddenly, taking him by surprise and knocking him to the floor. The breath rushed from his lungs as she knelt, one kneed pressing against his chest. He could not breathe, she reached into his holster and pulled his gun into her hand. Pressing the muzzle of the gun against his throat, she hissed with rage. Vaughn tried to move but the weight of her pinned him down. She smiled cruelly and and shook her head.

"Its too bad really, you held such possibilities. I could have had so much fun with you," her finger trailed along his chest suggestively and he wondered if he vomited now whether or not he might drown in it and end this faster.

Her eyes hardened, finger tightening on the trigger of the gun. "But you are nothing." She shook her head, "Just like the rest of them. Say goodbye now, Agent Vaughn."

A shot rang in the air, cracking the quiet stillness of the house with the deafening sound. It raced through flesh, splitting apart what was held within. Vaughn's eyes glazed over as the blood bloomed like a flower, death spreading through the limbs rapidly.

Lauren fell limply to the floor, the gun falling away from his flesh. Blood soaked the front of her chest, eyes darkening with the shadows of death. Vaughn looked past her to see Sydney standing in the doorway, gun in her hand. She was clad only in her tank top and underwear, hair still mussed, eyes soft from the haze of sleep. She had reacted to the sound of fighting without thought, coming straight to him automatically. The sight of Lauren kneeling over Vaughn had enraged her to the point of incoherence and she had known nothing but the way her hand shook when the trigger was pulled, the sound of the bullet arcing through the air. She was accustomed to this feeling, to the sounds of a dying breath escaping the lips of her enemy. But standing before Vaughn, framed by the morning light, hair tousled and face still soft with sleep, she did not look like the most dangerous CIA agent in the world. She was only Sydney, protecting what she loved most in the world.

Vaughn moved to his feet and walked over to her, neither of them spoke. She merely fell against him as he provided a support for her to land upon. He wrapped his arms around her, she was staring at the dead body of Lauren Reed emotionlessly. She knew that once, long ago she would have felt some remorse for taking the life of another person so easily. But she was not young or naïve any longer, she had no room for regret when it came to those who mattered most to her. She felt only a profound relief that Vaughn still lived, his arms tight around her, breath tickling the hairs at the back of her neck. 

She turned in his arms and he kissed her gently, reassuring her wordlessly that he was okay. She smiled up at him in relief and allowed herself to breathe easier, they were safe now. All the members of the Covenant were dead and soon it would all be over.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her out of the room, back up the stairs to the empty bed they had left behind. She gave no word of protest, merely laid her head in the crook of his neck and breathed deeply. The sweet, clean scent of him filled her head and within moments they both slept soundly, wrapped in the warmth of each other.

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When she woke again, it was late afternoon. The sun was warm on her face and she stretched lazily before opening her eyes. The bed beside her was empty and she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Before she could wonder where Vaughn had gone, the door opened and he appeared. He smiled at her warmly, juggling a tray of food in one hand and a change of clothes in the other. He settled both on the table beside her before leaning over to kiss her.

"Morning," she whispered against his lips and he chuckled softly.

"Afternoon is more like it. I couldn't bring myself to wake you." He nodded toward the food and settled the tray on her lap. "I made you breakfast despite the hour." He grinned and set the clothes on the chair before settling onto the edge of the bed beside her.

She smiled at him, kissing his cheek softly before digging into the food on the tray. She was ravenous, unable to remember the last real meal she had eaten.

"Your parents got here a few hours ago, your mom brought you a change of clothes," he nodded toward the chair where the clothes rested limply. "We cleaned up the mess downstairs and right now they're studying the Telling machine. I told them everything that happened."

She nodded wordlessly, mouth full of food. Vaughn watched her with a quiet reverence, one hand reaching up to stroke her hair gently.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, Sydney smiled at him and swallowed her mouthful of food.

"I feel like I should be asking you that," she gripped his hand on her face lightly and planted a kiss in the palm of his hand. Vaughn shook his head, eyes darkening slightly.

"I'm fine," he smiled and stroked her cheek gently. "With you, I'm perfect." Sydney reached up to stroke his face, a fresh bruise had formed on his cheek where Lauren had struck him. She swallowed hard and he gazed at her steadily, eyelids fluttering under her touch as it soothed away the lingering pain. She leaned forward and kissed him gently, her fingers tracing the bruises on his face. 

"I love you," she whispered against his lips before pulling away. Vaughn smiled at her, her eyes flickered from him to the food and he couldn't help but laugh at the hungry look in her eyes. He pushed the tray toward her and kissed her cheek gently.

"You better finish eating before I distract you to the point of starvation," Sydney grinned at his words and complied eagerly. Sliding off the bed, Vaughn got to his feet and Sydney felt cold from the lack of him. Her eyes turned up to him pleadingly and he chuckled softly.

"I better get back downstairs and finish being interrogated by your parents before they start to suspect I'm up here taking advantage of you."

Sydney pouted in mock sadnesss and he bent down to kiss her one last time. "You better take advantage of me later then, I'm holding you to it," she sniffled melodramatically and Vaughn laughed again. The sound of his laughter was like music, it played across her mind, as soothing as water rippling. She could not help but grin up at him, his green eyes sparkling with golden light.

"Gladly," he said and winked at her before turning to leave the room. She cast a lingering look on his back as he left quietly and smiled. The sun was warm on her face and her heart was full of quiet joy for the first time in what seemed like years. They were safe, Vaughn was with her and soon it would be over. 

She pressed a hand to her stomach, smiling gently at the thought of their child growing inside of her. Visions of dark haired children with green eyes, sandy haired ones with that prominent nose, hovered before her eyes. They were so close now, so close to finally having all they had ever wanted. Sydney felt the familiar surge of determination grip her heart, the same determination that had gotten her through the long months of torture, the past few days of running. She would come out the other side unburned by the flames, she would survive as she always did. She swore it now in silence, to herself and to her unborn child. They would make it.

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Jack and Irina were seated at the table, heads bent low over the golden orb on the table before them. Vaughn could hear them whispering almost conspiratorally to each other and smiled at the sight. It seemed so normal now, to see Jack Bristow whispering confidentially to a woman he had sworn to kill only a year before. Irina had made many mistakes but Vaughn had forgiven her for all of them. Learning that she had saved his father's life had finally had finally quelled the burning anger and hatred he had felt for the woman. When she had saved his life with that phone call, he had forgiven her everything. She seemed to be struggling to correct all the damage she had done in her lifetime and Vaughn knew better than anyone that everyone deserved a second chance.

Vaughn cleared his throat and their heads snapped up at the sound, eyes alert for danger. They relaxed at the sight of him and he smiled.

"How is Sydney doing?" Jack asked, a note of concern lingering in his voice. Vaughn took a seat at the table across from them and took a sip of his coffee that had gone cold in his absence. 

"She's doing fine, she's eating her breakfast in bed. She should be down in a few minutes." He nodded toward the Telling machine, "So what can you tell me about this device?"

Irina folded her hands on the table in front of her and studied him carefully, "Your father spoke the truth about the Telling. It is the greatest power Rambaldi spoke of because it controls all of the other artifacts. However only the chosen ones can use it to that end. With this device, you and Sydney could activate all of the Rambaldi artifacts and essentially have the power to destroy the world or you could choose to destroy the artifacts and bring an end to it all." Irina bit her lip and Vaughn gazed at her steadily, her words drifting through his ears. He had suspected as much, when he had activated the other Rambaldi device, he had gained a sort of insight about how Rambaldi worked. 

"Rambaldi said that Sydney would wield the power to utter destruction," Vaughn frowned as the words of the prophecy came back to him. "But together we have the power to end it? I don't understand."

Irina met his eyes and shook her head, "If only one of you tried to activate the Telling machine, it would set off a chain reaction and activate the Rambaldi devices connected to it. Essentially, she would wield the power to destroy everything but together you have the power to control it and choose the end as you see fit."

Vaughn nodded slowly, his eyes falling on the Telling machine slowly. It shimmered before his eyes, glowing with the same unearthly light he had seen in the Covenant vault. He wondered if Jack and Irina could see the way it glowed or if it was something only he could see, as one of the chosen. It seemed to call to him, his name whispering from within the depths. He was tempted to just touch it, to feel the smooth surface beneath his fingers but he resisted. 

His trance was broken by a light touch on his shoulder. Sydney had entered the room quietly, coming up behind him. He looked up at her, gripping her hand lightly. A smile instantly stole across his lips at the sight of her. She smiled back and kissed him softly before turning her attention to her parents. They were standing instantly, embracing Sydney as she moved around the table toward them. 

"Sydney, how are you feeling?" Irina asked, a knowing look in her eyes. Sydney smiled and shook her head.

"I'm fine, mom, really." She smiled and looked up to Jack, kissing him on the cheek lightly.

"And the baby?" Jack asked. Sydney froze under his questioning gaze and shifted uncomfortably, turning to look at Vaughn.

"You told them?" She asked uncertainly. Vaughn shook his head, a bemused expression on his face.

"Not a word. They knew already."

Irina laughed softly, "It's a mother's instinct to know these things, Sydney."

Sydney relaxed, seeing no anger in her father's expression. She had feared that he might rip Vaughn apart at the news, despite the bond they had formed. She smiled warmly at him and squeezed his hand.

"The baby is fine," she patted her stomach gently and a warm glow settled over her. Jack breathed a sigh of relief and smiled down at her, stroking his daughter's hair gently.

"Good, we were worried about you."

Sydney shook her head and moved away from them, taking the seat beside Vaughn. He clasped her hand gently and noted the way Jack and Irina exchanged a knowing look at the action. He was glad he had passed the test and proved himself to be a worthy father to their grandchild.

Sydney's eyes were fixed on the Telling machine, studying it with a quiet intensity. Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as she leaned closer to it, careful not to touch it.

"Why does it glow like that?" She asked, her eyes flickering to her parents as they sat back down across from them. Irina frowned and Vaughn smiled at the knowledge that she could see it as well, he hadn't gone crazy yet.

"We don't see anything unusal about it," Irina said. "It's probably because you have the power to control it, you see it with different eyes than we do."

Sydney turned to Vaughn, "You see it glowing?" He nodded in wordless relief.

"When I was in the Covenant vault, all of the artifacts were glowing with this weird ethereal light." He fixed his gaze on the shimmering orb and shook his head. "It makes me nervous though, I don't know why." His eyes flickered up to Irina, questions written there and she saw them before he spoke.

"My father told me," Vaughn began slowly, the words spoken softly into the still air. "He told me that this device shows a person their innermost desires, all of the paths their lives might take; what they are destined to do." He shook his head, "But it also destroyed his life. I can never know what he saw when he activated it but the power corrupted his mind." He looked at Irina calmly, "How can we know it won't do the same for us? Chosen or not."

Irina shrugged slightly, "Rambaldi foretold that the two of you would be the only ones who could control its power and handle the consequences. It is a risk you must take if you decide to activate it."

"I thought it wasn't a matter of choice, rather a matter of destiny," Sydney spoke up. Vaughn could see the way the machine was slowly drawing her in, the same as it had done to him. It's golden light shimmered in her dark eyes and she could not take her eyes from it to look at her mother as she spoke. 

Irina shook her head, "No, there is always choice, Sydney. It is your choices that have led you here. I must warn you that this machine is highly dangerous, many men have died trying to control its power. Others have been driven mad, like Sloane and William. But I believe in the prophecies, I believe in your strength. If you do not activate it, the Rambaldi legacy will continue. Its burden will be placed on your child's shoulders, who will be the only other chosen able to control it."

Vaughn's eyes flashed with fire at this news, he would not let this prophecy control their child's life. There was only one decision for them to make. Vaughn turned to glance at Sydney, her eyes were still focused intently on the Telling machine. He reached out to touch her face gently, turning her eyes to him. They gazed at one another for a long time, speaking wordlessly. At length, Sydney nodded and looked at her parents.

"We will do it," her words hung in the air like birds suspended in flight, winging their way to the ears of those who listened. The moment was frozen in time, a monumental decision spoken so easily. It was the final step in a long journey, the fulfillment of the ancient prophecy. 

No one spoke, scarcely a breath disturbed the air. Gently, Vaughn laid his hand over Sydney's and each of them took a deep breath. Their eyes locked, green shifting into brown and a thousand words of love hovered between them. Together, they reached out to touch the Telling machine with clasped hands, each free hand coming around to rest lightly on both sides. Their hands encircled the orb and Vaughn felt a wave of love wash over him. The device was smooth beneath their fingertips, as intangible as gossamer thread spun into golden fabric. A thrill of power rushed through each of them, their skin tingling, their senses heightened. Together, they turned their eyes to the machine and focused their thoughts.

The world around them fell away, the anxious faces of Jack and Irina melting away like plastic in a fire. The golden glow of the orb intensified, throbbing steadily beneath their touch before swirling up in a rush of colors that surrounded them. The golden light enclosed them in a bubble of sweet warmth. Time stood still within the space and the power rushed through them, consuming their souls with its swirl of heat. Vaughn's hand tightened on Sydney's and then everything changed.

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Vaughn stood alone in a well of darkness, the oblivion swirled around him and he felt a coldness wash over him. He spun around, searching for Sydney but she was nowhere to be found. He could feel the sweet thrill of the Telling machine still thrumming in his veins, his skin throbbing from the force of it. Warily he closed his eyes, struggling to understand what had happened. He had been prepared for whatever he might see but this dark emptiness clawed at his soul, burning a hole in his heart.

When he opened his eyes again, the world around him had changed once more. He stood in a long white hallway, the bright light stinging his eyes. The hall seemed to stretch on forever, shadows clustering together at the end. He took a deep breath and started walking down the hall, his footsteps resounding unaturally loud in the silence.

As he moved, images swept through his mind until soon he was blind to the hallway around him. His head filled with memories of Sydney, she stood poised in a thousand different times and places. Red hair obnoxiously bright, hiding her bruised face when he had first met her. Their many meetings where had only been able to sneak quick glances at her, never able to gaze at her face. The warehouse where their love had grown between broken boxes and dusty fences. Their first kiss, consuming him so completely that he had known nothing but the taste of her, the feel of her against him. He saw her and knew in his heart that she was what he desired most, the one thing he had longed for with his soul in his entire life. She was all he had ever wanted.

In a second, the memories shifted into visions. He saw things that had never happened, but had almost happened. He saw his father standing beside him on his graduation day, he saw himself as a professor in some dusty old college. He saw what his life would be like if he had never become a CIA agent, safe though boring and stale and there was no Sydney. The images tangled in his mind, swirling like water in a riptide. The darkest corners of his soul were revealed beneath the golden light and he fell to his knees at the sight of his father, flames leaping from his body. He cried out in anguish, the pain consuming him, the guilt overtaking him. He saw the face of every man he had ever killed in the line of duty, the men at the Covenant headquarters who had erupted into flame and reached out to him for help. He saw Sydney, tears staining her face because of the horrible things he had done. He sank to his knees, moaning in pain and struggled to push the images away. Sydney, he had to focus on Sydney.

Colors blurred and ran together, he saw her broken at his feet, defeated in a mission and killed. He saw her, dirty and stained by tears in a small room in Hong Kong. There was a wedding ring on his finger but none on her's and she seemed prepared to shatter into a hundred pieces at the sight of it. He could feel the Vaughn of the vision shattering into a thousand pieces just at the sight of her. Abruptly he saw the face of Lauren Reed smiling up at him from their marriage bed and he nearly retched at the thought of being married to that cow. 

"Sydney," he whispered her name like a prayer and his vision returned to her. He saw her glowing with happiness, dressed in white and approaching him from the end of the aisle. He saw their children running between their feet as they stood together, bathed in light. Bodies tangled together in the throes of ecstasy, flesh connecting with a burning heat. 

Finally the images swirled into a blur, the roaring in his head consuming all other thought. He was running down the hallway, screaming her name. The hall was fading around him into a golden light and he stumbled to a halt at the end, gasping for breath.

When he looked up, Sydney was standing before him. She was cloaked by luminous white light, glowing like an angel above him. There was a smile of supreme joy on her face and she reached out to take his hand as he reached out for her.

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Sydney was trapped in darkness, a suffocating swirl of shadows that reminded her far too much of the Covenant cell that had caged her for so long. Blinking rapidly, her vision cleared and the abyss fell away, shadows clearing to reveal a mirror at the end of a long hallway. Slowly she started toward it, her reflection shining back at her through the darkness. As she moved, the reflection changed, shifting to form other images.

Vaughn peered back at her through the darkness, his eyes searching for her frantically. His image shifted and blurred in the reflection as she drew closer, her eyes fixed solely on the mirror now. She could see every moment she had ever shared with him flickering at the end of the hall, every fantasy she had ever entertained about him. The frustrated arguments she had given him when they had first met, the look on his face as he gazed at her longingly in the warehouse where they had met. The way his face lit up with a smile every time he saw her, the careful touches and stolen glances. They had filled the dark nights for a long time before she had ever been able to press her lips to his, colouring her in darkness with the glow of love. 

The memories stirred inside of her, consuming her thoughts and filling her with a warm glow of happiness. He was the only person she had ever wanted with an intensity that consumed her entire soul. The only person who had truly made her realize what love was. She broke into a run, struggling to reach him and as she did so, the images changed.

She saw then every way he had been forced to pay for helping her. The way his face had contorted in fear as his face pressed against the glass, waters closing in around him. Lying in a hospital bed, slowly wasting away because he had chosen to help her on that life changing mission. Shot and stabbed, body broken and spirit torn. She saw him slumped among the ashes of her apartment, face twisted with grief as he stared at the black body bag before him. Her heart ripped open at the sight, pain consuming her at the thought of how much his love for her had cost him. He sat alone in the darkness of his apartment, clutching her photograph to his chest, empty bottles littering the floor around him. He wept for the loss of her and she felt tears stream from her eyes as she wept with him.

She fell to her knees a few feet from the mirror and stared up into it with wide eyes. It's visions transfixed her now, keeping her locked within this dangerous truth that was hidden deep in her soul. She held her hands up to the images on the mirror, pleading for forgiveness. Tears streamed from her eyes, staining her flesh and falling silently to the darkness. He was all she had ever wanted and she had wounded him far deeper than she had ever known.

Vaughn disappeared suddenly and Sydney found herself face to face with her own reflection. Julia Thorne stared back at her, blonde hair falling gently around her emotionless face. She saw the expression on the stranger's face, the man who had pleaded for his life before she had twisted the knife into his heart. She saw the broken bodies of countless men and women who had never been known to her save for the danger they posed. She had killed so many throughout her life, all to save herself. The faceless multitudes changed then to show her a face that had burned in her memory for six long months, her best friend. She saw for the first time the way Francie had been killed, Allison sneaking up behind her in the restaurant and shooting her point blank in the forehead. The same face she had known and loved for so long had become a stranger and she watched helplessly as she thrust the knife into Will's chest. So many lives had been destroyed on her account, her deepest and darkest deeds exposed to the bright light of day. They were laid bare before her eyes and she wept, hating herself momentarily for what she had done.

She lowered her head to the floor, broken sobs escaping her throat. When she looked up again, she saw the face of her mother smiling tenderly at her. Hope rose in her heart and she crawled closer, reaching out for her mother's hand. Irina vanished, replaced by Danny who stood beside Sydney in a small chapel, swearing his life to her. She saw what her life could have been if only she had made different choices, if she had never joined SD-6, never become a CIA agent. The lives she could have led were all happy and prosperous, but there was no Vaughn. Without Vaughn, there was no life at all.

At the thought of him, the mirror went dark, the images vanishing as abruptly as they had come. Out of the darkness, she saw Vaughn as he really was. He was reaching out for her, illuminated by a bright white light that blinded her eyes. Golden wings seemed to stretch behind him and she heard her own words whisper through the air.

"My guardian angel."

Stumbling to her feet, Sydney swallowed her fear and reached out for him, stepping through the mirror to join him on the other side.

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They stood together now, hand in hand. Their bodies had become transparent, golden light filling them and shining out the other side. Pressed together, their bodies merged into one, minds linked and souls connected. Golden tendrils of light encircled their hearts and spun a web that held them fast together.

Between them glowed a silver light, emanating from her stomach to his heart. The soul of their child, though young, had a strong presence on this plane of existance. Their heads touched and between them passed everything they had seen, everything they had been and knew. Their minds cleared of all memory and thought, replaced by one image that they both longed for with all their souls. Their child, cradled between them as the two of them stood on a long white beach. The ocean crashed against the shore and everything was as it should be.

They spoke without words, communicating in thoughts that could be heard as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud. The image vanished and was replaced by the sight of a young man who stood before them. He grinned at them, dimples shadowing his face. His green eyes blazed brightly as he watched them watch him, his dark hair merged with the shadows beyond them. Sydney and Vaughn looked at their son, grown into a man and with a mischivious glint in his eyes that they both recognized as belonging to the other, he turned and raced away.

They followed him without moving, their minds going with him as he raced over the paths of their lives. The images blurred around him, colors forming a bridge beneath his feet. He led them back to a golden orb that hung suspended in the air. The smile still on his face, he stepped forward to take their hands and join them together, placing them on the surface of the golden ball. His eyes softened as they looked at him and he spoke a single phrase that struck them both with awe.

"You are my guardian angels," he whispered. They glanced at each other, blinking back tears and when they looked back, he was gone. The golden light swirled up around them once more and with minds connected, hearts merged as one, they saw their destiny unfold beneath their feet.

The darkness around them lit up with sparkling points of light, golden strands drifted lazily from the golden orb to the lights and they realized what it meant. Concentrating hard, focusing their thoughts as one, they poured their energy and purpose into the Telling machine. The golden light flared, its heat washing over them with an intensity that burned their souls but left their skin intact. All around them, the points of starlight that represented every Rambaldi artifact winked out in a massive wave of golden heat.

They were alone in the darkness, the golden orb hovering above them slowly dwindled to a small speck. Slowly, it's pale flame burned out and they were left alone in the darkness, clutching one another desperately.

Then the world rushed back to them, time snapping back into place and they both knew, that it was finally over.

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	20. Homecoming

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Chapter Twenty:

Homecoming

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Throughout the span of a human lifetime, only a rare few achieve the kind of glowing enlightenment that paves the way for rebirth. It is a moment when the world falls away and the mind is filled with a clear white light. At this moment, a soul recognizes the many lives and destinies it has fulfilled and what they are meant to do in the future. It is a moment of utter clarity, typically when one is completely alone in their own mind.

Michael Vaughn and Sydney Bristow had this moment at the exact time in their lives, but they were not alone. Their enlightenment was achieved as one complete being of pure energy and love. It was in this moment that they were joined, body and soul, heart and mind. They had always been bound together but in this moment, they formed a perfect union and fulfilled their destinies.

Only now could they be reborn, able to shape their lives as they wished. Free from the darkness and pain of their former selves. They were the pheonix arising from the ashes of so much fire.

When he opened his eyes, Vaughn saw everything around him lit with a dazzling light. Turning, he saw Sydney beside him, glowing brighter than anything. She opened her eyes and smiled at him. His soul reflected back from her eyes, mingled with the pure energy of her own. In that moment, Vaughn was filled with the light of pure love and happiness, so complete that it seemed nothing would ever be able to diminish the glow inside of him.

His eyes were fixed on her and her on him, their hands were still clutched tightly together. Slowly, the world faded back to normal. Even the bright sunbeams pouring in through the window seemed dull in comparison to the light they had just seen. Vaughn felt breath rush through his lungs, his heart pounding in his ears. 

As one, they turned to Jack and Irina who sat wide eyed before them. The Telling machine was a smoking black shell on the table, the golden glow gone. The power had been destroyed. The only power that remained was them, in destroying it, they had taken part of it into themselves. They were the only power of Rambaldi that remained now. Their eyes blazed with a golden glow, illuminating the green and brown with a fierce light.

There was silence all around them as the eyes of Jack and Irina slowly lifted from the wreckage of the Rambaldi device to look at Sydney and Vaughn. Sydney could see the wonder that was written in her parent's eyes and she smiled softly at them.

"It is done," her words broke the silence, clear and filled with quiet authority. She had become imbued with new life. The shadows in her eyes had vanished, the darkness that had been cast upon her since her abduction was gone. She was Sydney again, but she was more herself than she had ever been before. 

Vaughn smiled at the sound of her voice, marveling at how much he loved her. She was whole again and he could feel the cracks in his own soul sealing. The shadows fled back into the corners of his mind and he was alive again. Truly alive for the first time since he had learned of her death so many months ago. It was a lifetime away now, their former selves that had been broken so many times was no more.

Jack gaped slightly and Vaughn could not help but laugh. The eyes of all three flickered to him instantly, Jack and Irina feeling a surge of fear. Had he gone mad where Sydney had survived?

Sydney knew better, she could feel his thoughts, his utter joy. She turned to him and joined his laughter, it was like music rippling through the air. When they had calmed themselves, he embraced her tightly, holding her to him lovingly. He kissed her forehead and then dropped a hand to her stomach. He looked up to meet her eyes and she saw reflected in him the vision of their son, brought to life. She knew he could see it too, they both knew the truth of the visions. Softly, he kissed her stomach, she knew the grins on both of their faces must look ridculous to her parents but she didn't care. 

"I guess it's not a girl after all," Sydney said with a smirk. Vaughn chuckled and kissed her, souls dancing in joy.

"What the hell happened?" Jack asked, finally overcoming his shock enough to speak. Sydney stifled a giggle as she looked at her father, never before had she seen the incredulous expression that was on his face. She shrugged helplessly, unable to explain the phenomena that had taken place inside of them.

"We met our guardian angel," she answered. Jack's brow furrowed further in confusion and Sydney laughed at the sight. Her eyes flickered to her mother and she found Irina smiling warmly, she understood. Irina turned to Jack and took his hand gently, his eyes moving to her. 

"They saw their lives, Jack. They saw into each other's souls and they lifted the curse that has hung over all of lives for thirty long years. That is all that is important."

Jack nodded, still bewildered but he accepted her answer. He liked to understand what had just happened to his daughter but he had the feeling no one would ever truly understand. All that mattered to him was that Sydney was safe.

"I am safe, dad," it was as if Sydney read his thoughts. She clasped Vaughn's hand and smiled up at him, the love in her eyes made him warmed his flesh. 

"We're all safe," he said softly, still gazing down at her. "We can go home now."

Sydney's smile grew wider as she thought of her home, she saw them on the beach, their baby in her arms. For so long it had been a dream, then it had been a vision, now it could become reality.

"Yes," Sydney turned to her father and nodded. "I want to go home."

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They arrived in L.A. hours later, Vaughn piloting his father's private jet to the CIA landing strip. They called ahead of time, he had informed Marshall that he and Jack were coming in from Ireland with two other people. Vaughn was practically giddy with excitement over the reactions Sydney's old friends would have to her miraculous return from the dead. It was Sydney's excitement as she bounced in anticipation in the copilot's seat. Vaughn could not help but grin every time he caught a glimpse of her. She was like a little girl, awaiting a huge present and her enthusiasm was contagious, combined with their inherent joy. They were as giddy as teenagers in love.

They arrived at the CIA office around by evening, the colors of night deepening across the horizon. Sydney was overcome with joy at the sight of the city lights gleaming, the familiar sense of home washed over her. She was always happy to see it every time she had returned from an exhausting mission in the past. This last one had been the most draining, it had stolen six months of her life and changed her completely. But some things never changed.

They stood outside the familiar entrance to the CIA building, looking at each other with anticipation. Vaughn's arm was wrapped firmly around her, her arm snaked around his waist. They stood together, prepared to face what lay ahead. Jack and Irina stood behind them, a bit more nervous. Irina was afraid that the CIA would take her into custody as soon as she showed her face. Jack, Vaughn and Sydney had convinced her that due to her actions in destroying the Rambaldi devices, she would be granted a pardon. Jack clutched a box that contained the broken shell of the Telling machine and the second prophecy about Vaughn that had started the whole adventure.

Vaughn gazed down at her wordlessly, a question in his eyes. Was she ready? Sydney nodded and smiled broadly. Together they walked into the CIA as one, arms around each other but no real need for support was necessary any longer. They were strong enough to stand on their own now, but they were still stronger when they stood together.

Sydney's eyes filled with tears as she entered the familiar room that had been their office for so long. It seemed as though nothing had changed. Vaughn's hand stroked her back as they moved deeper into the room. At first no one took any notice of them but one by one, old coworkers saw them approach and stopped what they were doing to turn and stare in amazement. Their superiors who had been speaking to them frowned in annoyance and followed their line of sight, jaw dropping and voice halting in midword. A buzz of voices rose in surprise and then slowly faded one by one in stunned silence. 

Sydney saw Marshall at his desk, turn to see what was happening and his eyes widened. He dropped the fancy looking gadget in his hands to stand up and stare at her. She smiled at him and looked around the office, she saw come out of an office and meet her gaze, jaw dropping in surprise. She smiled at him and the tears spilled from her cheeks, all at once the buzz arose. Will and Marshall rushed to her, followed closely by Dixon and Weiss who appeared out of the crowd. They swarmed Sydney and Vaughn, questions erupting like wildfire in the brush. Will's eyes were filled with tears as he pulled Sydney to him, wrapping her in a tight hug. Enthusiastically, Marshall and Weiss also joined in. Weiss pulled Vaughn in as well and soon the four men were piled on top of Sydney in amazement.

The sound of her laughter spilling through her tears pulled them off of her and they all stared at her in amazed joy. It was Dixon who finally managed to speak first, clearing his throat from the lump that had formed there.

"Sydney," he said softly. Her eyes flickered to him and with a teary smile, she embraced him tightly. He held her for a long moment before pulling back and looking deep into her eyes.

"God, when Jack told me I didn't believe him. But it's really you."

Sydney nodded and sniffled, "It's really me, Dixon."

"How is this possible?" Will asked in amazement, one hand gripping Sydney's as if she would disappear at any moment. She looked at Will and shook her head, the smile lighting her face. 

"Its such a long story, the Covenant had me and then I found Vaughn and there was a lot of Rambaldi prophecies and artifacts involved." She laughed softly, "It is way too complicated to explain right now."

"There will be time for an explanation," Weiss said. "Right now I think its time for a celebration! Its not every day that one of my best friends returns from the dead." He turned to Vaughn and punched him lightly on the shoulder. Vaughn winced slightly, Weiss had hit the injured arm where Lauren had shot him only days earlier. Weiss noticed the pained expression and frowned.

"And you! Where the hell have you been for the past month? Do you know how long I've been trying to contact you, man?" His light tone was darkened by the concern he felt for his friend and Vaughn smiled in attempt to assuage his fear.

"I was hiding from you, Weiss and your damned questions." Weiss' face fell at his words and Sydney and Vaughn both laughed at the same time, their synchronicity surprising the men around them. Vaughn clapped his hand on Weiss' back and smiled broadly, Weiss' face lifted and he laughed with them.

"Sydney," Marshall touched her hand and she turned to him gently. His smile was wide and uncertain, unable to believe that she was really there. "I can't believe that you're here, I mean if anyone could come back from the dead it would be you. Though, I'm sure you weren't really dead, I mean, we all thought you were dead," Marshall frowned, his eyes flickering away from her as they did when he rambled off on these trains of thought. Sydney grinned and hugged Marshall, kissing him gently on the cheek.

"Its good to be back Marshall, and its even better to see you," she said. Marshall blushed furiously where her lips had landed and he turned away with a nod, muttering to himself.

Jack and Irina had been standing back this entire time, unnoticed by everyone in the commotion that followed Sydney's appearance. Dixon's eyes landed on them and he smiled, shaking his head. He moved over to Jack and clapped him on the back with a smile, "I didn't believe you, Jack, but you were telling the truth. This is incredible." His smile faded when he looked at Irina and his eyes flickered between them curiously.

"Mr. Dixon," Irina offered her hand with a cordial smile. "I have a proposition before that I fear you won't be able to refuse. But first, I must ask you not to arrest me until you have heard our story."

Dixon's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied Irina, cautiously he took her hand and shook it. "Of course, Ms. Derevko. I will want to hear your story as much as everyone else."

"That's it, we need to celebrate," Will was saying to Sydney. The smile on his face was huge and he couldn't stop shaking his head in disbelief. "All of us need to go celebrate your return, we can go to the restaurant."

"The restaurant?" Sydney asked, frowning slightly as her eyes darkened at the memory of Francie. "Francie's restaurant?"

"Yeah," Will smiled sadly, seeing her pain. "After she died," his words dropped softly in mourning. "I took over the restaurant, I couldn't see it go to waste after how much she put into it. I own it but I have some very reliable people who are running it since my duties as super spy in training are a little demanding."

Sydney smiled at the thought of Will being a spy and shook her head, "That sounds great, Will. But no drinking for me."

"No drinking?" Weiss groaned. "What is a party without drinks?"

Sydney laughed and glanced up at Vaughn curiously, he returned her smile and shrugged in response to the silent question. She turned to Weiss and with a smirk on her face said, "I've got to look out for more than just me now, Weiss." She laid a hand on her stomach with a smile and Vaughn's hand joined her's, they shared a knowing look.

One again, all were struck dumb by her announcement. Weiss shook his head, "Man you kids have been apart for six months, one of you dead and then somehow you find each other again. What was that sex like?"

Vaughn and Sydney broke into a fit of giggles, something rarely heard in the center of the CIA office. Agents swarmed around the group in the middle of the room, moving on with their jobs, having moved past the amazement Sydney had stirred. However everyone heard the laughter that came from the two people in the middle of the room and the sound of it lifted their hearts with inexplicable joy. 

Sydney looked around at the happy faces of her friends with a peaceful smile on her face. Vaughn's arms circled her from behind, even as he spoke to the others, his presence was constantly linked to her. She could see the wonder in their eyes as their gazes drifted over her. She could see the way they looked at her as if she was a brand new person, they could sense a change about her and Vaughn but none of them could quite place their finger on what it was. They most likely thought it was the glow of love, of joy after months of sorrow. They were right. The world had finally returned to normal for the first time since she had become an agent. She was filled with a peaceful harmony, in the midst of loving friends, Vaughn's arms around her. Everything was finally as she had always dreamed of. 

The world was a safe place for the first time in so many years, Sloane was finally dead, the Covenant was gone and Rambaldi would fade into legend. Her soul held no darkness any longer, she was filled with light that brightened the rest of the world.

Vaughn kissed her cheek softly and she knew he felt her souls deepest emotion, she leaned back against him, secure in the warmth of his arms and she smiled. 

The nightmare was over, now their lives could finally begin.

__

When they got home, late that night, they were exhausted from the celebration of their friends. They had all gone out to dinner, a massive group of CIA agents putting aside their serious concerns and celebrating the return of their friend. Marshall, Carrie, Weiss, Dixon and Will all accompanied Sydney and Vaughn to Francie's old restaurant. The décor had been much the same and Sydney knew that her best friend, who was long gone, would be happy for her at this moment. 

At the end of the night, Vaughn and Sydney had pleaded with their now mostly drunken friends that it was time for them to rest. Not a one of them had any idea what they had gone through in the past twenty four hours, let alone the past few days and months. They had barely gotten a full night's sleep in days and their friends had reluctantly let them part with many declarations of love and amazement and the promise that every one of them would be checking on them within the next few days. Sydney could not wait to catch up with them but Vaughn had seen her level of exhaustion and brought her quickly home.

They entered his apartment and Sydney felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her, they had spent most of their nights earlier in their relationship at her house. But now her apartment was gone and the only place they had left was Vaughn's home.

Vaughn was surprised to see that the apartment was conspicously clean. Weiss must have dropped by while he was gone and cleared away the piles of empty bottles and trash that had gathered. The only thing left untouched was the pile of photographs that spread out like a rainbow across the table. Sydney collapsed heavily onto the couch and gazed at the pictures. Vaughn joined her there and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her neck gently.

"I thought I would never be able to touch you again save through these pictures," he murmured against her neck. She laced her fingers through his and smiled softly.

"I forgot all about these," she whispered and shook her head. Vaughn felt around inside his pocket for something and retrieved another photograph. Unfolding it, he placed it on the table at the center, clearing the space of Sydney's face. She smiled, it was the picture of him as young child with his parents. He had taken it from his father's house in Ireland, the only memento of that brief experience with his father in the last hours of his life.

Sydney did not speak, only nestled closer to him and he gathered her into his arms. She was asleep by the time her head came to rest on his shoulder and he carried her into the bedroom, laying her down gently on the bed. He stood over her for a second, aglow with happiness at the sight of her. Gently he removed her shoes and her uncomfortable clothes, she barely stirred as he did so, she trusted him even in her unconscious. He lifted the blankets and settled them over her, stroking her hair softly as she sighed in her sleep.

Turning away from her, his eyes drifted around the darkened room. He had not been here in a long time but for the first time in many months, it felt like home again. Anywhere Sydney was, was home. 

Standing, he moved around to the other side of the bed when his foot caught on a box that was sticking out under the bed. He frowned and kneeled down to open it, trying to remember what it was.

When he opened the box, his breath tangled in his throat and he felt tears burn his eyes. He had completely forgotten that it was there, waiting for him. It seemed a sign at this hour, after the end of it all. With a smile on his face, he closed the box and pushed it further under the bed where Sydney would not find it. He climbed onto the bed, shedding his clothes and slipped in beside her. Wrapping his arms around her, she turned in his grasp, a smile lingered on her sleeping face. Vaughn kissed the top of his head and allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

__

A few days later, they were on the beach. It was a secluded area, no one around for miles. They had been looking for a house to buy, Vaughn's apartment was much too small for their growing family. They had not even had to discuss where to look for a home, they had gone to the beach immediately, searching for the perfect home.

They had found it without much searching, a cozy home on the edge of the beach. After making an offer, they sat together on the sand watching the sun set over the ocean. Sydney was watching the colors of the twilight shimmer off the vast stretch of water, Vaughn was watching Sydney. His grip on her hand tightened and she smiled, pulling him closer to her. His arms went around her willingly and she shifted onto his lap, turning to smile up at him. He had a ridiculously goofty grin on his face that almost made her laugh but she did not, there was something very serious hidden beneath. She could tell.

"What is it?" She asked. Vaughn shook his head and rested his chin on her shoulder, watching the sun gleam in her eyes. 

"I love you," he whispered. "I just love you so much."

She kissed him softly, stroking his face softly. He caught her hand and brought it to him, placing it over his chest. She could feel the steady pulse of his heart beneath her fingertips. He gazed deep into her eyes, the silliness vanishing and his expression was transformed with an expression of profound love and knowledge.

"You feel that," he asked softly. His heart quickened beneath her touch and she smiled, her own heart racing in response. "That is you, pumping the blood through my veins. When you were gone, I could not feel my own heart beat." He covered her hand with his own, the other reaching out to cover her breast where her heart beat in unison.

"Sydney, I can't breathe without you, can't dream, can't feel. You have made me a new person in so many ways and I am so much better because of it." He leaned his head against hers and moved his hand from over her's to reach into his pocket. Gently, he took her other hand and slipped something onto her finger. Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed gently and then looked at her. Her eyes were filled with tears of joy, as were his own and she was smiling with so much love.

"Marry me." It wasn't as much a question as it was a breath that whispered across her flesh. She shivered from the force of the emotion and glanced down at her hand. The jewel on the ring sparkled up at her, light catching on its facets in the fading sun. She looked back to him, watching the way the sun turned his skin into gold, his eyes into green fire. She swallowed her tears and attacked him, ravishing his face, his neck, with her lips. His laughter rumbled up from beneath her in his chest and she threw her arms around him. He scooped her up into his arms and swung her around in a circle, kissing her feverishly.

"Of course, I will marry you, silly." She said between kisses. "I love you, I love you," the words were captured by his lips as he set her down on her feet. His fingers ran through her hair as he kissed her deeply. 

The sun merged with the water behind them, the waves crashing against the shore and swirling around their feet. They did not notice, so wrapped up in each other as they were. They stood illuminated before the setting sun, aglow and untouched by the shadows. In the glow of the sun, their sillhouttes merged to become one to any who might have seen them. They were bound together in a union deeper than marriage or friendship, the union of souls who have finally found what they were searching for.

__

It was six weeks later when they found themselves in the hospital. Sydney laid back on the bed nervously, clutching Vaughn's hand. He smiled down at her reassuringly, attempting to sooth her fears.

"It's going to be okay, sweetie." He kissed her hand and smiled at her, she smiled weakly in response. So much had been going on since they had returned, they had been thrown into preparations for both the oncoming wedding and baby. Dixon had given them an extended leave from work, both were fully aware that they might never return but he left the option open for them just in case.

The doctor entered the room then, smiling warmly at them. She looked down at the sheet on her board and then back to them, "Ms. Bristow." She smiled at Sydney and took a seat on the other side of the bed. "How are you feeling?"

Sydney shrugged, "I'm throwing up a lot, but I've been told that's pretty normal?" She bit her lip, unsure suddenly and Vaughn squeezed her hand for support.

"She's been sleeping a lot and her morning sickness usually comes around the same time. She's gained very little weight however."

"All of that is perfectly normal," the doctor assured them. "Not all women gain weight right away, depending on how physically fit the mother is and how well she takes care of herself and what food she eats, Sydney may not gain more than ten or fifteen pounds." The doctor smiled down at Sydney who breathed a sigh of relief, shooting a grateful look toward Vaughn. He smiled at her gently and the doctor watched their interaction with a knowing grin.

"I assume you are the father," she looked down to skim the sheet. "Michael Vaughn?"

"Yes I am," he replied happily. They had a paternity test performed only days earlier, in order to gurantee what they both knew in their hearts. This was his child.

"Alright, well I hope you're ready to begin," she lifted Sydney's hospital gown to rub the cold clear gel across her stomach. Turning on the machine, she pressed the small device to her stomach. Sydney and Vaughn's eyes turned immediately to the monitor, searching through the hazy darkness for their child's heartbeat.

It appeared slowly, rising from the depth, a steady white blur that pulsed steadily on the screen. Sydney gasped at the sight and Vaughn stared in wonder, a joyful smile breaking across his face.

"Hm," the doctor murmured something and Sydney's eyes snapped to her instantly, alarmed at the sound.

"What?" Sydney asked, a note of panic in her voice. "What's wrong?" She felt Vaughn's fingers turn her face gently to the screen as the doctor pointed to something there.

"Nothing is wrong, its just interesting. I am seeing two heartbeats here," she smiled as Sydney's eyes widened. Vaughn was grinning like a fool, he had seen the second heartbeat before the doctor even had and knew what it meant. He kissed Sydney's cheek softly and whispered into her ear.

"So maybe we both win? Maybe we get the boy and the girl at once?" He chuckled softly and Sydney was awed by the idea presented to her. She had thought she was blessed to have one baby, but two?

"Twins?" She asked softly, the doctor nodded and pressed a button on the machine. A copy of the image on the screen printed out and she handed it to Sydney, shutting the machine off.

Vaughn and Sydney stared down at the picture in wonder, her fingers traced the faint outline of their child's heart, Vaughn's fingers traced the other. They met in the middle and laced together, no words were needed. This was a miracle in many ways.

The doctor smiled, recognizing the private moment and retreated from the room. Sydney and Vaughn were left, curled up together on the bed, gazing in amazement at the picture. 

"We saw our son," Vaughn whispered softly. "I saw every course our lives might take and at the end, we saw our son standing before us. But I never imagined children." He smiled and kissed her softly, placing his hands gently on her bare stomach. 

"Now we can have everything we dreamed of," she whispered in wonder. Vaughn laid his head against her stomach and smiled softly. 

__

They were married on the same beach, barefoot at twilight as they had been the day he had asked her. It was three months later, Sydney had only just begun to show her pregnancy but as she walked down the aisle on Jack's arm, she glowed brighter and more beautiful than ever before. Jack had tears in his eyes as he gazed at his baby girl who was a child no longer. Her eyes were fixed on Vaughn, standing beside Weiss and the minister at the end of the aisle. 

When Jack halted at the end, he turned to kiss her gently on the cheek, silently bidding farewell to his little girl. She smiled brightly at him and wiped away his tears with a soothing hand. He turned to Vaughn and nodded shortly, but his hand clasped Vaughn's shoulder with a loving touch. Vaughn smiled at him and clasped his hand briefly before Jack turned away to sit with Irina in the first row. 

Glancing over at her husband, Irina smiled through her tears and took his hand. He looked at her and she kissed him gently, she was filled with joy at the simple fact that she was sitting here beside the man she loved, watching her daughter get married. It was the dream every mother had but one Irina had never believed would come for her. In the end, this was all she wanted, her family with her and happy. Jack squeezed her hand gently, conveying his love for her silently and their eyes met wordlessly before turning back to their daughter as she stepped up to Vaughn's side.

Sydney could scarcely hear the words the minister spoke, she was lost in the heat of Vaughn's gaze. He held her hands between them, a soft smile hovering on his face. The two of them were in their own world, the golden light that surrounded them seemed too bright to be sunlight, it was their own power that they held together that lit them from within. The power of their love.

Sydney was somewhat surprised to hear him say her name, the words of the minister had been a rush of sound in her ears but his voice was clear. His soft words were spoken with a calm clarity, as if intended for her ears alone.

"Sydney," he squeezed her hands and smiled. Tears welled up in his eyes as he gazed at her and he cleared his throat before continuing.

"The day I met you, my heart stopped. I didn't know then what you would come to mean to me, how you would change my life so completely. All I knew was that you were strong, you were brave and you were so full of life. I admired you then, respected you and grew to care for you despite your stubborness and obstination." He grinned and Sydney could not help but laugh softly, the tears wet on her face. 

"But you saved my life," he whispered. He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them softly, eyes remaining on her. "You saved me in so many ways, Sydney. You have been my heart's greatest desire, you are what holds my soul together. I have loved you through lifetimes, through pain and darkness until we emerged together into the light," his voice trembled as he spoke. "I will love you until the day I die and beyond. From this life to the next." He lowered his eyes to her hand and slipped the ring on her finger, sliding it down to join her engagement ring. His tears spilled forth onto her skin, glowing softly in the twilight. 

Sydney gazed at him, allowing his words to wash over her and fill her with a joy beyond measure. She allowed the silence to linger for a moment as she cleared her throat to speak her vows.

"Michael," she smiled at the use of his first name and the import was not lost on him. "There was a time when I thought I would never love again. I was lost and alone in the darkness until you came to show me the light. Through every moment, you have been with me. You have been my partner in every way, you have saved my life and my soul. When I knew only darkness, you were the flame that burned brightest, warming my chilled soul. You have been my partner, my friend, my lover, my guardian angel," she smiled at the last words and he knew what she was thinking. The term had always contained so much meaning to them but after their son's words, it held an even deeper and more profound emotion.

Gently, she slipped the ring onto his finger and kissed the palm of his hand. "You taught me to believe in myself, to believe in the truth and you taught me how to truly love. I will love you forever, from this life to the next."

Vaughn embraced her, barely waiting for the word from the minister before bringing her to him and kissing her passionately. She threw her arms around him joyfully and at that moment, they felt their children stir in her womb, kicking Vaughn through her stomach as if they could sense the excitement in the air. Sydney broke away with a gasp and the two of them broke into laughter. He embraced her tightly, one hand soothing the restless children in the womb and they seemed to quiet under his touch. Sydney's eyes sparkled and taking her hand, he turned to face the crowd. The words of the minister finally formed in her head and she heard him announce.

"It is my pleasure to give you, Mr and Mrs. Michael Vaughn."

Sydney was not sure she had ever heard a better phrase in her life.

__


	21. Living The Dream

__

Epilogue:

Living the Dream

__

The world was quiet here, the only sounds that filtered through were those of nature. The earth seemed to breathe, pulsing upward from the depths. The roar of the ocean was calm, a steady pulse in the vein of the planet. Sand shifted slowly, marking the passage of time as footprints faded and were reformed, constantly washing away with the tide. 

Sydney closed her eyes momentarily and soaked in the warmth of the sun on her bare flesh. Clouds drifted lazily across the golden orb but they always passed, allowing her a moment of peace. The sand was soft beneath her fingertips as she dug her fingers in, beneath the surface there was a layer of darker soil. The darker sand was filled with shadows, only exposed to sunlight when the wind or water pushed the surface away. Often, Sydney felt like the ocean, her life had always been shfiting and changing beneath the waning moon. Only now, she felt like the shore, constant and peaceful, soft beneath the waves of change her life had brought to her.

Her reverie was broken by squeals of childish delight. With a smile on her face, she opened her eyes and looked down the beach to where her children were playing in the shallow water. Vaughn stood beside them, one hand firmly gripping those of the yonger two. His shirt had been discarded on the sand beside her and in the afternoon light, he was like a god of the sea. Skin gleaming gold, eyes ablaze with the light of love, he always seemed to glow with a faint unearthly light. She could see it sometimes, pouring from his fingertips when he touched her, from his lips when he kissed the cheeks of their beautiful children, from his eyes when he looked at all of them. It was something she had seen ever since the Telling machine had opened her eyes, and three years later she could still feel its power in both of them. That same power of strength and love had been passed onto their children, who Sydney always saw as glowing angels of beauty.

She rose to her feet and approached them slowly, Vaughn was lifting them in his arms as the waves crashed against the shore. The water never reached higher than their small chests but they still screamed with the childish joy that comes from facing their fears. Vaughn laughed as their daughter, Morgan threw her arms around his neck and her eyes fell on Sydney. Sydney smiled at her daughter who was the spitting image of herself at that age, dark hair and eyes with a piercing intelligence. Morgan smiled joyously and stretched her arms toward Sydney.

"Maman!" She called happily, grinning fiercely. Sydney laughed and lifted her skirts, treading into the water. Her son, Aiden looked up at her from his position at his father's side. At the age of four, he was as intelligent as his sister and had already gained a fierce independence. That never stopped him, however, from running to his mother as he did at that moment and wrapping his small arms around her waist.

"Maman," he echoed his twin sister's cry happily and Sydney picked him up, swinging him around in the air. He giggled happily and she kissed him on the cheek as he wrapped his arms around her neck and settled his head on her shoulder. His exertion in the ocean with his sister and father must have tired him out.

Vaughn turned at his daughter's call and looked at Sydney, a warm glow of love emanating from him. She was illuminated by the golden glow of sunlight that reflected off the rippling waves onto her skin. In the white dress, water swirling around her legs, he saw in that moment the headstrong agent he had fallen in love with many years ago. Now she was so much more, she had long been his partner, his friend, his lover. Now she was his wife, the mother of his children, everything he had ever wanted. His smile grew even wider as he stepped closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. Gently he kissed her on the cheek and rested his forehead against hers. 

Aiden and Morgan took advantage of their close proximity to one another to bow heads together and began giggling softly at some joke that neither Sydney nor Vaughn had heard. Their children were naturally very close, being fraternal twins, they had been inseperable since the day they were born. It seemed often to their parents that they could read one another's thoughts, speak without words. They were highly intuitive to each other's thoughts and emotions and those of their parents, recently Sydney had seen evidence that this same intuition carried over into the way they viewed the world. They were brilliant children, learning rapidly whatever their parents taught them. Vaughn had spoken to them in French since birth and they could speak it as well as English at the age of four. 

"Hey there," Vaughn's gentle words interrupted her musings and she smiled gently. "When did you get home?"

"Just now," Sydney replied, kissing him softly. In unspoken agreement, they both turned and moved out of the shallow water. Neither Morgan nor Aiden protested, having exhausted themselves with the power of the ocean. Together, the four of them walked up the length of the beach to their house on the edge. 

"How was class?" Vaughn asked, smiling at Morgan as she poked his nose playfully. He poked her nose in return and then rubbed his against her own in an eskimo kiss. Morgan squealed with delight and proceeded to lean over her father to rub her nose against her brothers. Sydney could feel Aiden giggle against her chest and she smiled.

"It was good, some of my students are incredibly bright. There is one girl who reminds me a lot of myself at that age."

Vaughn chuckled softly and shook his head, his eyes moving from his daughter to his wife. "Better check her for any bruising then, make sure she's not involved unwittingly in any terrorist organizations."

Sydney made a face at him which just made him laugh harder and she couldn't help but giggle as well. Aiden and Morgan were already giggling over some private joke and they broke into a full out childish squeals of laughter, attempting to outdo their parents.

Sydney made a face at Aiden which he mimicked perfectly and she swung him around in her arms. "You think that's funny do you, little man?" He nodded enthusiastically and she kissed his dark hair, shaking some of the sand out of it. Sydney set her son down on the porch and knelt down to look him in the eyes. Vaughn did the same with Morgan simultaneously, they anticipated one another's actions as quickly as their children did sometimes. "You go get washed up now and Maman will give you some dinner in a few minutes, okay?" 

Aiden nodded enthusiastically, green eyes twinkling and he turned, grabbing his sister's hand. The two of them ran into the house, tiny hands clasped together as they spoke rapidly to one another in French. Sydney smiled as she watched them go, Aiden sounded exactly like his father when he spoke in French, even at such a young age. He would be unwittingly breaking girl's hearts in only a few years, she could tell. His sister and mother were the only women who held his heart at this stage in life.

Vaughn turned to Sydney and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close to him to catch his lips in a breathless kiss. She smiled against his lips and ran her fingers through his damp hair, stroking his neck gently. His eyes were filled with a familiar fire when she pulled away and she smiled wickedly.

"Miss me?" She asked lightly, a teasing tone in her voice. Vaughn groaned softly and shook his head.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Sydney laughed softly at the hunger in his voice and kissed his cheek gently.

"Agent Vaughn, don't tell me you've been thinking dirty thoughts in the presence of your children all day?" She laughed as his eyes darkened and his head drooped in mock shame. Catching his chin as it fell, she lifted his face to hers and kissed him again.

"It's not as if they can read my thoughts," Vaughn frowned suddenly, genuine anxiety in his expression. "Right?"

Sydney giggled and shrugged, "Sometimes I think they can." Her expression turned serious suddenly and her brows knit together in thought. "They're highly intuitive, sometimes I wonder if the Telling did something to them."

Vaughn shook his head, they had discussed this often in the past four years and had never come up with any concrete evidence aside from their own instinct. "If it did," he whispered as he hugged her close to him. "It just made them even more special."

Sydney nodded and the shadows cleared from her eyes, she kissed him again and smiled. Two shadows fell across them and they turned to see their children standing in the doorway, plates in hand, impatiently awaiting dinner.

"Maman!" Morgan held up the plate and frowned, her forehead wrinkling in perfect imitation of Vaughn and Sydney laughed. Her joy was so profound, her love endless whenever she looked upon her children. Her fears for them were ones that all mothers had, she did not have to fear they would be killed by her enemies or that they would be kidnapped and used against her in some way. Sydney Bristow had been many people in her life, she had changed appearances a thousand times, been called by countless names and titles that were never rightfully hers. Out of all these aliases, out of every role she had ever played, the one of mother was by far her favorite.

Grinning down at his children, Vaughn took the plates from them and shook his head. "You're smart enough to find the dishes but not the food?" They just stared up at him with wide eyes, perfectly innocent. Vaughn took the dishes in one hand and his son's hand in the other, Sydney took Morgan's hand. The four of them were all linked together, Aiden and Morgan completing the link with their entwined fingers. 

After dinner, Sydney was washing the dishes as Vaughn put the twins down for a nap. They would never sleep longer than an hour until bedtime and though it was a rare hour when Sydney and Vaughn could be alone, they both missed the bright energy of their children at times like this. Vaughn had prepared dinner before Sydney had come home so she took it upon herself to do the dishes, it was a mundane everyday chore that she never tired of. It was calm, it was ordinary and it took far less effort than diffusing a bomb in under thirty seconds. Sydney rarely missed the life of a spy, she had spoken often of leaving before her disappearance and after Vaughn had destroyed the Covenant and they had both destroyed the legacy of Rambaldi, she had craved the normal mundane activities of life. Moments like this were never lost on her, even after three years of being out of the CIA. Vaughn was still working for the CIA, only as an analyst, where he was safe and home as often as possible. He had only agreed to become a field agent in the first place in order to stay close to Sydney, so he could protect her on missions. Without her working for the CIA, he no longer desired to be in the field. Only intense begging from Dixon had persuaded him to stay on at all. 

Vaughn knelt now beside his children's bed. At the age of four, they were old enough to have their own beds but when Sydney had purchased separate beds for them, one had always ended up crawling into the other. So they had put the second bed in the attic and the twins shared a bed, as they shared so much else.

Morgan looked up at him, eyes bright in the shadows and Vaughn smiled at her, kissing her forehead gently. Aiden sat beside her, bouncing slightly in excitement. He had been thoroughly exhausted by the day but he refused to show it, he wanted his father to stay with them as long as possible but Vaughn could see his eyelids struggling to droop closed. Aiden looked up at his father, feeling his gaze on him and smiled, bouncing in his seat.

"Story, Papa?" He asked with wide eyes, pleading for just a moment more of his time. Vaughn could not resist, he smoothed his son's hair gently and then folded his arms on the side of the bed, resting his head on them.

"Story?" He asked with mock confusion, forehead wrinkling with thought. "What is that?"

Morgan sat up in excitement, she loved her father's stories, Vaughn hid a grin at her enthusiasm. She looked from Aiden to her father, sleepiness forgotten and bounced slightly. "Story!" She demanded and Vaughn let the laughter break free. 

"Okay, okay. Calm down, what story do you want to hear?"

"Maman!" Morgan cried and Aiden nodded his agreement in a motion that was decidedly older than his years. 

Vaughn smiled and eased himself onto the foot of the bed where he could see both of them. "You want to hear the story about Maman and me?"

His children nodded, sitting upright, covers clenched in their tiny fists at their chins in anticipation. He eased them down until they were laying still on the bed and then began to speak.

"A long time ago," he began softly. "There was a beautiful princess named Sydney," he was cut off by Aiden's enthusiastic cry.

"Maman!"

Vaughn grinned and nodded, "Yes, Maman. She was very beautiful and smart but she had been tricked by an evil wizard. The evil wizard enslaved her and made her do all of his dirty work."

Morgan wrinkled her nose, "Like laundry?" It was the dirtiest work she could think of and she asked it so innocently that Vaughn felt a pang of sadness. Someday she would discover the truth, that Sydney had never done Sloane's laundry (she probably would have decked him for suggesting it) but she had done things much worse. 

"Yes," Vaughn said softly. "Like laundry, and she had to clean his tower which was always very dirty from all of his spells," stained with blood, Vaughn thought, from all of his torture. "Well one day he went too far and he took away something very dear to her."

"What was it?" Aiden asked, his eyes filled with curiosity. Vaughn had told them the story a hundred times, each time changing it slightly as if to keep the children guessing. 

Vaughn hesitated, thinking momentarily on Danny, a man he had never known. "He stole a jewel from her, something that was very precious to her because it was all she had left from her life before he had enslaved her. She became very angry and swore revenge, she escaped from the evil wizard and ran to the palace where she met a handsome prince." 

"Papa!" Aiden announced happily and Vaughn nodded. 

"That's right. She and the princed worked together to bring down the evil wizard and in the process, they fell deeply in love. It was only after they had declared their love for one another that the evil wizard captured the beautiful princess and made the handsome prince think that she had been killed."

Aiden and Morgan did not interrupt this time, beneath the covers their hands were clutched tightly and their eyes were wide. They each held one hand to their mouth in an expression of intense fear that children feel for things that are make-believe.

"Well, the handsome prince was very distressed by the news. He became a shadow of his former self, his life had been stolen away when the princess had died. Only the princess had left clues for the prince, telling him that she was still alive and where to find her. The prince followed these clues, not daring to believe that they could be true only to discover at the end of the road, that his princess was waiting for him." Vaughn grimaced inwardly at the wild distortion of the truth, his storytelling skills were rough tonight.

"So the prince and the princess were reunited and they were very happy. However, the evil wizard was still looking for them so they had to run away. In the process, they encountered many dangers and almost lost each other again. But in the end, they came face to face with the evil wizard and used his own magic against him. The evil wizard was destroyed and your maman and I lived happily ever after." Vaughn smiled as he noticed his children's eyes drooping closed at his last words. Gently he leaned over to kiss them each on the cheek and turn away.

He found Sydney in the doorway, sillhoutted against the light in the hallway. She smiled gently at him and held out her hand which he took eagerly. Casting a look to the sleeping children, she closed the door quietly and led him down the hall.

"I liked your story," she told him with a ripple of amusement lacing through her voice. He blushed faintly and shook his head.

"I've told better," he said to her. She laughed quietly and the two of them went out to sit on the porch together. They sat together on the large chair that hung suspended from the roof, swinging slightly in the breeze. Sydney curled against him, head resting on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. The sun was lowering in the horizon, the colors of twilight bathing the pale sand with a crimson glow. The bright blue water was a muted purple and red in the distance, waves lapping gently at the shore. If Sydney had been the ocean, Vaughn had always been her shore. Now they were equal, standing together beyond all definition.

The twilight was their favorite moment here, their house had the best view of the ocean that Sydney had ever seen. There was no one around for miles to disturb the quiet peace of the sunset. Sydney and Vaughn had only each other and their children who were resting within the house. 

"You know what today is?" Sydney asked quietly, her words murmuring against his chest. He turned his eyes from the horizon to her, watching her quietly. Of course he knew what day it was, he had been hoping she might forget.

"Of course," he whispered. "Four years to the day. Look at how far we've come." He shook his head and swallowed a sudden lump that rose in his throat. "I sat amidst the ashes of our life and thought that I would never have all of this, I thought it would fade into my dreams and now here we are. We've won, Syd."

She smiled, the shadow that hung over her thoughts fading into a golden glow at his words. She nodded, the motion easing her head from his chest to his neck where she kissed the skin on the nape of his neck gently. "Thank you, Vaughn."

His forehead wrinkled in confusion and he shook his head slightly, "For what?"

She shrugged and settled her head against his shoulder, "There is too much to say in words. You have given me everything I ever wanted."

He smiled and shook his head, she had done only the same in return. "I love you," he whispered into the dying light. A soft breeze swept over them, stealing his words and casting them into the impending night. She heard them however, she always did. They sat together in silence for a few minutes, watching the sun sink into the sea. Vaughn spoke again, his words hesitant in the quiet. 

"I'm thinking about leaving the CIA," he told her, his eyes were still fixed on the horizon. She looked up at him, the red light gleaming in his eyes and studied him.

"Why now?"

He shrugged and turned his gaze to her, "I have done so much for them, Syd. They've taken so much of my life and I don't want that anymore. I want my life to be here with you and Aiden and Morgan. I've given them everything that I have and I have nothing left to give."

Sydney nodded, she understood how he felt. It was the same decision she had made three years earlier when Dixon had told her that she was welcome to return to the CIA after the twins were born. She had refused, she had given so much of herself to her work and now she only wanted to give to her children and her marriage. "What do you want to do?"

He smiled at her and shrugged slightly, "I was thinking about becoming a French professor. I taught the twins pretty well and I could come work with you again in a much safer environment." Sydney could not help but feel excited about the idea, they would be able to work together where they could show their affection. 

"We could bring the kids to the College's daycare center if we needed to. We wouldn't have to be very far from them."

Vaughn shook his head, "Not far at all," he grinned and chuckled softly. "Your parents do a wonderful job babysitting, so does Will and Weiss but I think they would all be a little relieved if we took them to daycare. They'll be in regular school soon anyway and they've got to learn how to interact with other children their age. They will have to learn that other children aren't always as smart as they are. That not all children know how to speak French fluently."

Sydney groaned slightly and shook her head, "Imagine how much they're going to drive their teachers nuts speaking French."

Vaughn laughed at the though and pulled her closer to him, kissing her softly. "They're going to be amazing," he whispered. She could see the same glint in his eye that Aiden had presented earlier and smiled at the similarity.

"They already are," she said softly. She leaned her head against his shoulder and his arms tightened around her. She curled around him, contentedly and closed her eyes. The sun was sinking below the horizon now, she could feel it in the way the warmth of the light shifted on her skin. She could see the shadows lurking behind her closed eyelids but they did not bother her, they were as natural as breathing. They would always be there but her own natural light pushed them aside. Vaughn pressed a kiss into her hair and breathed a sigh of contentment. There were no broken wounds to mar their flesh, no bruises from fighting. The only wounds they carried now were the ones that stained the fabric of their own souls but those wounds had long ago healed over and though not forgotten, they were no longer important. All that mattered now was their life together, the happiness of their children and the love that held them together stronger than any other force on the earth. 

Against the horizon, they were bathed in the last colours of twilight. Aglow with golden light that shone from within and crimson light that spun a web around them with its rays. They were cocooned in warmth and happiness, the world around them spun on and life continued. 

The most important fact of all was that life not only went on for others, it went on for them. Vaughn's story was true, they were living happily ever after every day but the most important fact in his mind was that they were alive at all. They were together and they were living their lives the way they had always dreamed.

He could not think of a better way to end their long story than that.

__

Fin.

__

"Come to me now,

lay your hands over me,

even if it's a lie

say it will be alright

and I Shall Believe."

-Sheryl Crow

E-Mail: Undothought@yahoo.com

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